Satinalia Prompt Presents
by Apollo Wings
Summary: Give me a Dragon Age prompt and I'll attempt to write it! Accepting all! I'm booked up to chapter 16 atm so do prompt me and I'll add you to the list, I may be a while as I'm super busy sometimes xxx
1. The Sunrise - for dragonmactir

Author note: So I'm going to do presents of 'shorts' for authors on here. This is for **dragonmactir** - they didn't ask for it but they enjoyed a part of this that I posted in a review when they said they'd never seen a sunrise over the ocean. I just had to do a short from it because I was proud. Check out The Return and In A Nearly Perfect World - fantastic stuff.

I'll not be using default names for Wardens/Hawkes because I hate them all. They all have horrid default names (barring Garrett, which I always change to Gareth, it's the closest thing to the default names I tend to do.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the some of the dialogue and situations, tbh Bioware/EA made the whole thing and I'm playing in their universe. Like - if I mention 'Varric' - they own him, but if I mention 'Yulia Amell' - her ass is mine, I made her personality and her appearance britches!

**- If you want a scene, PM me the prompt and I'll attempt it! I'll tell you when I post it up, I may even write a scene and tell you about it if I think you'll appreciate it! -**

* * *

Anders stared out at the dark blue sky. His eyes were gunked from sleep but Ina just had to drag him up here. Apparently there was nothing like walking all the way up Aralt Ridge... all the way up! Just to see the sun rise up over the Waking Sea. The Fade was beckoning him despite having been awake for the past three hours with a heavy pack on his shoulders.

Just why had he agreed to this now? Oh yes, Ina was one of his few friends growing up in Kinloch Hold. Plus the way she'd begged him to come with her in case 'big bad bandits' ambushed her. Pfft... as if bandits posed a problem for the mighty Hero of Ferelden! But those sparkling emerald eyes were persuasive. Enough that he'd been made to get up and dress in the dark of his allocated room and trudge the half marshy, half grassy landscape that was Amaranthine and her surrounding lands. Ahead him, unnaturally happy despite the unholy hour the elven mage skipped. Actually skipped. Her joy overwhelming to the point he snickered at the way her robes caught up around her ankles and she faltered slightly, her arms flailing out awkwardly, her staff being the only thing that stopped her from landing nose first into a puddle.

"Don't you laugh. I'm still getting used to these!" She tugged the high neckline of her navy Warden robes. "I should make you wear them, the you can see just how horrid they are. Mages aren't designed to wear trousers. Look at me!" Which only made him laugh even more.

"You should carry the pack. Then you might succeed in falling all the way." She pursed her lips and squinted her eyes at him.

"Say things like that and there'll be a giant spider in your room and I shan't say if it's me or not." She warned.

"Oh no! Curse the day I was threatened by a spider!" Anders threw his head back in a chuckle. "How about you slow down for this Maker forsaken hour. The sun will still be there when we arrive."

* * *

Ina grabbed hold of Anders's hand as she led the way down the cliff side path. "Come on, if we get right onto the sand we can see the whole display."

"It's hardly a once in a lifetime opportunity Ina. The sun rises everyday." He rolled his eyes.

"Have you ever seen the sun rise over the sea?" She stumbled slightly on the rocky path and quickly righted herself.

"No. I've seen if rise over the fields of the Bannorn, I must say, when I first escaped the sight was quite amazing. Completely different to staring out the tower's windows."

"Then you need to see it!" Ina huffed. Honestly it was like dealing with a stubborn child Anders thought. Possibly because she was like that most days when they didn't need to buckle down and fight alongside each other.

"If we miss it then we'll just have to do this another day."

"As if I'll ever get you up this early again. Come on!" She tugged on his glove and he had to follow or risk his shoulder popping out of his socket. The sky was getting lighter by the moment.

Eventually she found a high rock right on the beach, the top of it perfect to perch upon and wait. She took the pack from his shoulders and pulled out a thermal flask full of hot Ambrosia tea which she poured quickly into the short clay cups she'd puled out of the pack. She passed one to Anders who inhaled the heady tea and took a tentative sip. Anders wrinkled his nose.

"Well it's certainly strong." He admitted. It was definitely something.

She quirked an eyebrow and took a sip from her own cup. "Oh! Oghren's homebrew! He must have spiked my tea! It's an acquired taste, I must say." Her peals of laughter died down as she stared off into the distance, the very top of the sun was peeking over the edge of the horizon. He heard her suck in a breath and her eyes watered slightly. How could she feel so emotional over something so mundane?

* * *

Ina stared out at the bright orb of light that was slipping upward from the liquid azure. The salt in the air whipped Ina's red hair back in a flurry, stinging her eyes but it felt good. It felt like everything was swept away with that gush of harsh air. Anders looked over at her and followed her line of sight to settle back and watch too with her the sunrise. Overhead gulls squalled their mornings like uninvited guests, a chorus of discordant shrill voices. But there was something extraordinary about the sun rising over the crests and foam of the waves. Different to the lay way it crept over a field of wheat, golden and magnificent. It was raw. There was something completely unadulterated about the way it peeked above the ebb and flow and hiss of the sea. The way it tinged the sky a pale orange and shaded the low hanging clouds pink before it faded into the cerulean and white so familiar. It was... just how it should be. The stinging salt, the unforgiving whip of the wind and the stark contrasts... utter beauty was to be found in the everyday occurrence simply by viewing it from a different perch. Ina snuggled into the crook of Anders's arms, his warmth seeping past the chilling sea breeze. They watched the slow ascent of the sun in silence, the birds and crash of waves enough to listen to.

The sun finished it's slow ascent up the sky until it hung complete above the sea. "So was it worth the three hours of hiking?" Ina posed, arching an eyebrow up at the stubble she'd found her head under.

"Completely." He breathed. "It was..."

"Breathtaking? Amazing?" She laughed at the change from grumpiness to awe.

"The way it's supposed to be." He mused. "All mages should be able to see this. They shouldn't have to think of it as something so extraordinary. It's everyday!"

"But then we would miss the beauty of it." She pouted. "It's a nice idea of course, having the same rights as anyone else. I'm trying my damnedest to recruit as many mages as possible. It's hard though. Queen Anora did help me make the Circle more mage-friendly and First Enchanter Constance Amell is accommodating, she gives me a list after the monthly Harrowings of every mage who could actually deal with Warden life. But not every mage can cope with it."

"Constance always was. I can't believe Irving abdicated after so many years to be honest."

"She was his other star pupil, I ended up Warden-Commander, she ended up First Enchanter." Ina shrugged. "I would have made a terrible First Enchanter, can you imagine me - 'Apprentice Bob, your robes are askew'." She giggled before straightening up at the oddly serious look on his face.

"They shouldn't have to be Wardens to be free."

"I know. Let's get back to Vigil's Keep. I should have a new missive from her any day now. Perhaps you could go with me Anders and help me conscript?" She got up from their rocky seat, dusting the pale sand off the backside of her robes.

"I'm not going back Ina." He accepted the outstretched hand and dusted his own layer of sand off.

"I see. Well I'm leaving next week anyway. I have to go back and pick up my phylactery. Call it a present of I find a certain blond mage's on my travels. I might even destroy it." She winked.

"Oh just make me smile." He chuckled, the whole serious talk over and they started on the long walk back to the remains of the Keep. It was enough for them to live in but it would take a while of the fortifications to be rebuilt. Ina didn't seem to mind though, she was pouring her back-payment of stipend that she'd received from Weisshaupt into the effort - as where the nobles of Ferelden. They admired the elf for her saving of the City of Amaranthine.

"Just like the sun rising over the ocean makes me smile." She laughed back.


	2. Blood Magic Woman - for SurvivorHawke

Author note: Right - so this is the prompt I got from **SurvivorHawke** :

"Set after Sebastian's Act3 quest.

Lara Hawke and Leliana get trapped by blood mages.

Romance M or T

Lara has strawberry blonde hair and gray eyes and she is a Rogue :)

Leliana is the LI."

Here's what I came up with, rated T because I'm not changing the rating, it might be suggestive but not overtly so...

* * *

Lara was only too happy when Leliana was the agent the Divine had sent to Kirkwall. It seems going to Viscounts Keep to meet with said agent was a good idea after all.

Now it really had to be explained what a long-distance relationship they had. Especially during the Blight - when Leliana was on the move constantly with The Warden, her cousin Patrick Amell and Lara escaping Ferelden to Kirkwall.

She got that first letter in a year sent to Gamlen's hovel of all places. How Leliana had know where to send it Maker only knows, but right now, even though the ginger haired Chantry Sister hadn't said she was coming to Kirkwall - she was happy. The last she'd seen her long-distance love had been briefly at Chateau Haine - and they hadn't had much chance to speak at the time.

* * *

They'd met one night in the Lothering Chantry shortly after her father had passed away. Lara had been sitting on one of the pews near the back, tears in her eyes and prostrating herself that she hadn't been able to do a thing. Bandits! Of all the things to have taken her father away.

Leliana had sat next to her that day, asked her why she was puffy eyed, why she had bitten back when Chanter Devons's 'assistant' had asked her if she was going to take up any of the requests on the Board. And Lara spilled everything. How if she'd been quicker, if she'd just known... but no, she hadn't been and it had cost her a father. Leliana simply put her arm around her shoulders and Lara snuggled into her Chantry Robes, feeling safe and warm for a while.

And it had started like that. Grey eyes would catch the sparkling blue ones during the sermons, insense heavy between the two women as non-verbal communication passed between them. Eventually she'd gotten up the courage to speak at length to the mysterious and comforting sister, not about death but of trivial things such as shoes and hair, of the war that was starting.

Carver was picked up during the recruitment drive five months before that very fateful night at Ostagar. Mother had been distraught that her baby boy was off fighting tainted monsters. So duty compelled Lara to march to Ostagar and force her way into the Kings army. Carver had been so angry that she'd followed him. This was something he was doing on his own!

Leliana sent the first letter ever to Lara a week after she'd arrived at the ancient decrepit fortress. It described in detail a dream she'd had, that she was feeling an odd compulsion to follow a man with strawberry blond hair like hers and grey eyes. A mage. That this man would need her in a battle of some sorts. Lara's breath had hitched just thinking of Leliana riding off into the sunset to fight. Could the unassuming woman fight? She'd practised her archery with her once because Carver had refused to even entertain the idea that her arrows would be a match for his two handed sword. So they'd set up a target practice on the edges of Lothering. But that didn't mean Leliana was a fighter! It meant she could fire a bow and arrows.

She hurriedly scribbled the letter back, her cursive that her mother had taught her thrown out of the window. She told her love to not be so hasty, to go somewhere safe - and if she could, take Bethany and her mother with her. She would send the money.

In her mind, Lara had seen it all. She'd seen Leliana dashing off to fight the very same monsters she was fighting these days and nights. The thought chilled her to her core. The only thing that had confused her was a man that looked very similar to her... and a mage? That made no sense to her.

* * *

Leliana's hand in hers Lara was resting on the bench outside the Chantry, looking up at the golden Andraste, her hair mussed up as her head rested on the Orlesian's shoulder. "I have missed you so much dear heart." Leliana cooed, her warm breath almost fluttering down Lara's face and filling her with utter delight just to be close to the woman again.

"I missed you too." She admitted. Wow, she was head over heels. Distance truly made the heart grow fonder. "Don't ever leave me again. Six years my love. Never again."

"Never again." Leliana caught under her chin and pulled the Champion up into a smolderingly sweet kiss. Lara sagged with the pent up tension being released. She'd feared after so long away from Leliana that they wouldn't have anywhere near the same chemistry they'd shared before.

"Well well well. What have we here?" Lara pulled out the embrace to face the voice that had spoken to them. Her eyes narrowed on the woman sauntering up to them. Her mind whirrled to place the name to the somewhat familiar face. Then it hit her as hard as any brick. Grace? The apostate she'd attempted to escape from the templars by having Varric lie that she herself were one of the Templars visiting from Ferelden? What was she doing here? "The Mighty Champion of Kirkwall and her Orlesian lover. And I've been chained up in the Circle for so long I've forgotten what love even is." Her voice was a strange monotone, not Tranquil but as if her psyche had cracked.

"Get away from Leliana. I helped you before Grace but if you so much as try anything I will cut you down where you stand." Lara stood, drawing her bow from her hook on the back of her Champion leathers and notching up and arrow for good measure, straining the bowstring back as far as the limbs would allow so that when released the arrow would lance through the air.

"So defensive. Yes. Fight Champion, it'll make our victory all the sweeter." Grace pulled a dagger from her belt loop. Oh all that was sacred! Lara let the arrow loose as soon as she'd seen that - she could see it coming - Grace had accepted a demon and now was their thrall.

Almost as soon as Grace had been shot at, a massive group of mages descended on the two rogues. Each of them were dripping blood from wrists of palms onto the mottled grey stone of the Chantry courtyard. "You'll regret that Champion!" One of the mages yelled as the vortex of red energies engulfed him.

The red swirled into a huge crescendo and hit Lara square in the chest. Her lungs throbbed to even draw breath in, it were as if her very being were being zapped while she fought the urge to do something she was going to regret. Tears in her eyes as she forced the battle of wills to a conclusion she saw how Leliana had gotten out her own bow and had shot the blood mage that had attempted to control the Champion straight through the eyes.

The constricting pain in her chest almost disappeared instantly and she pulled a large handful of arrows from her quiver and started firing as quickly as possible at the too numerous mages that were closing in with the draining lightning and numbing ice. Anger that anyone would so dare to so much as threaten Leliana fuelled her and her arrows met deadly purchase more often than skittering away from their intended targets or being embedded into stonework.

It seemed Leliana was just as angry that someone would attempt attack her and her love. Her own arrows were shafts of pain for any who got in the way of them, if Lara recognised the fletching in the midst of battle they were known on the streets as 'Andraste's Arrows' - arrows that cancelled magic.

The battle raged on for a while, flame coatings and deathroot extracts being thrown hastily of the arrowheads before being fired as to hurt or kill any enemies that didn't fall to the original wound straight away. It ended and the two archers looked at each other. "I hate blood magic." Lara sighed. "I really hate blood magic."

"Me too." Leliana put her bow and quiver of arrows into the right places on her back and drew Lara into a tight hug, the shorter woman's head resting easily under her chin. "Come my love, let us go back to your estate. I feel awfully tired all of a sudden."

"I thought you'd never ask." Lara nuzzled into the soft, hot flesh of the Orlesian's neck and gave her a playful bite over the juncture between neck and shoulder.

"I see I'm not the only one who bites." Leliana giggled, her voice reverberating through Lara's lips.


	3. Deep Wine - for Musicalrain

Author note: So **Musicalrain**, my fantastic and loyal friend and reviewer supreme (check out her magnum opus 'One More Hawke') sent me this:

Fenris and Nate in Deep Roads. Fenris is drinking and Nate's trying to encourage him not to. Why does Fenris have wine in the Deep Roads? ;)

I got immediate inspriation... let's have a shot at this! I've set it after all the personal quests so (Fenris, Anders and Merrill featured in this chapter - have had their quests and questioning beliefs done) Obviously it's Act 3. I had to set the scene first though. Damn me I just had to write so much! The problem is - this is my main Hawke so I'm very attached to him... The actual part to the prompt is at the end...

* * *

Gareth Hawke almost ran up the steps to Fenris's mansion. He had to go into the deep roads again. Both the times he'd been there previously the Tevinter elf had joined him, been a very valuable member of the team and quite honestly the only reason he hadn't been killed by an ogre the first time. He also knew the trepidation he felt every time he had to descend into that blighted hole since they'd first gone down nearly six years ago now. He'd been there when he had to end Bethany's life. He'd been there when he reluctantly had to tell the dwarves that their sons betrayed each other down there just as Bartrand had to them.

The archer adjusted the red leather cuirass he'd been gifted as the Champion of Kirkwall before sighing. Now how was he going to explain why he was going again? Oh yes - his damned noble nature had been put under a test by fire when Delilah Howe had pleaded with him to try and find her Warden Brother.

Come to think about it - hadn't Anders once mentioned that Wardens 'sensed' each other? It couldn't hurt to have the healer with him too, if he could get the blond mage to close down the clinic for a week or so. Always plan for the worst had been his motto for so long now. It was why he'd gone back to his estate (being careful not to wake Merrill) and started packing the food and potions that they would realistically need for a week and a half in his pack.

"Fenris!" He called out into the darkened hall of the dilapidated mansion, his nose wrinkling at the smell of sour wine that crashed into the wall close to his head.

"Hawke! My friend come in!" The deep baritone responded, slightly slurred. Hawke rolled his eyes. Wasn't it a little early for Fenris to be drinking? It wasn't unusual for him to be greeted with a wine bottle close to the head though, it was a regular occurrence when Fenris had been sampling his extensive wine collection to find something he liked as much as the wine his former master had left in the mansion. "I found another bottle of Aggregio Pavali! It seems Danarius hid it!"

_Or more likely I hid it._ Hawke thought.

"I can see." He muttered. Fenris was slumped slightly over the table in the only clean room of his hard won house with a gauntlet clad hand on a dark purplish bottle. "I was going to ask you if you had a week to spare to go into the deep roads."

"Do you really want to do it all again?" Fenris leaned back in the chair, the bottle found it's way up to his lips and he took a long drag on the burgundy wine.

"Honestly - no. That's why I'm blackmailing Anders to come with us. And Merrill." He winced - ready for the second bottle to land closer to his head. Fenris hated being surrounded by the two mages of their mismatched group. But Fenris understood how Hawke and Merrill were together, how Anders was needed in those tainted tunnels, both as a healer and Grey Warden. He didn't like either of them but he wasn't going to complain when Hawke was the one deciding the group going into the horrid place.

"The abomination and the blood mage. Argh." Fenris's mouth turned down as if he'd swallowed a fly in his wine - which was most probably true, the elf didn't cork it when he left the bottle unattended. "Allow me to pack, I won't be long."

"Thanks Fenris. I'll go get Merrill and slink through my cellars to get to Anders' Clinic. I'm not up for a trek through Darktown when we've got the deep roads to get to. Meet me at my estate in an hour with a week or so worth of supplies." He shook his head. It would take half a day for them to get to the deep roads entrance near the Wounded Coast. Hopefully by then the salty sea air and cold winds would have sobered his friend up a bit.

* * *

Hawke crept up the stairs to his bedroom as quietly as possible. Merrill wanted to sleep in today after their excursion last night to clean up the streets of Lowtown. She was always grumpy when he woke her up. True she'd almost instantly bounce into her normal self, but for about five minutes his little Merrill was a scary thing. "Merrill..." He spoke in a whisper about a half a foot from her long pointed ear. "Ma vhenan I need you to wake up."

"Gareth?" Merrill turned over in her sleepy state. "Did I hear that right?" She suddenly was staring right up into his eyes. "You spoke elvhenan!"

"Picking it up." He smirked. "I need you to come with me to the deep roads sweetness. We're going on a rescue mission."

"But all the stone above our heads! I don't wear shoes ma vhenan." Merrill jolted up in the four poster bed, clutching to the red covers. "And the darkspawn!"

"I know. But if I go and the Knight-Commander gets a hold of you while I'm gone I'll never forgive myself. That's why I'm getting Anders to come with us." He clasped one of her dainty hands in his. "I will do everything in my power to keep you save love."

"You're crazy." Merrill sighed as she reached up and sloppily kissed the end of his nose.

"Only for you." He snorted. "Get dressed while I go twist Anders' arm behind his back."

"Oh don't do that! You'll hurt him and mess up his feathered pauldrons! And he looks just like a crow in anting... oh you didn't mean it literally did you. No, of course you didn't... I'm babbling."

"You are, but it's cute Merrill. Don't change will you - ever." Gareth shook his head as Merrill slipped out of the bed and reached for her bathrobe.

"Never ma vhenan." She stretched out and plodded along the carpeted floor. "May I have some of your special tea to help me wake up?"

"Only if you're good Merrill. So yes, you may, especially for asking so nicely." Hawke had to shake himself. Merrill and he were too soppy sometimes. And they teased each other. Merrill would say how he would gather all the kittens in Kirkwall if someone asked nicely enough. He would say how she would be trailing after him giving them silly names with Anders and making them little swords and hats to wear.

* * *

Hawke slipped through the extensive wine and exotic liquors cellar he'd started up back when he'd bought the estate. All his friends knew about it but only Fenris and Isabela had been stupid enough to attempt to breech the locks and traps he'd set out. Varric wasn't that suicidal, if there was something Gareth Hawke appreciated, it was a good alcohol. He'd worked for near weeks on end to make sure Isabela would never disarm them and that Fenris wouldn't be able to ghost through them. Expense and time paid off though as the two lovers hadn't tried to get in there a second time. They had however asked very nicely if they could join him for a night to drink with him. He of course being a pushover brought out five different wines and three colourful liquors for them to drink with him and Merrill.

He bolted the hatchway that lead into Darktown and pocketed his key for the padlock he placed over it. Holding off from breathing as much as possible before he got into the clinic (where the air was less refuse and more elfroot) he made his was to Anders.

"Ah, my favourite possessed apostate!" Gareth sneaked up on the blond mage.

"That's the tone you use when you want something." Anders remarked, spinning on the spot to smirk at the Champion.

"Normally." He shrugged. "You're coming to the deep roads with me. I need to find someone called Nathaniel Howe."

"Nate? The Commander conscripted him, I was there." Anders mused. "I wonder if he ever got a sense of humour?"

"Compared to who?" Hawke grinned. "Start packing for about a week and a half. Meet me outside the front of my estate in half an hour."

"Who else is joining us?" Anders started picking up lyrium potions and bandages and putting them in his pack.

"You'll see." He laughed.

"Merrill and Fenris then." Anders grimaced.

"How did you know?" Hawke started walking out the clinic.

"You have a tell. Your lip twitches when you tell me stuff I'm not going to like." He sighed.

"Never play Wicked Grace against me. I like my coin." And with that he went back up the concealed entrance to his estate.

* * *

The journey. Mage against non-mage arguments constantly. Gareth was ready to shoot his two friends and run away with Merrill forever at this rate. Fenris still wasn't sober, Anders was bristling about having to close his clinic just to be around the hypocrite mage who used her freedom stupidly and the elf who'd never like a mage as long as he lived. Merrill - thank the Maker wasn't getting involved. Hence why he was itching to just draw his bow and place a arrow between both his friends eyes. Because they all liked him even if they didn't like each other.

"Ah, I think this is the right place. Does it look like death?" Anders stopped at the hole to the entrance and pulled the rope out of his pack.

"That was a bit thoughtless. And here I thought 'hopefully we'll find more than bones this time' was the worst you'd say." Gareth sniffed. When his friend had said that when they went after the blood mage who'd killed his mother and attached her head to other women's body parts he'd not spoken to him for three months before necessity had demanded he needed a healer.

"The abomination strikes again." Fenris drawled.

"Are we carrying that much alcohol? I don't think we are." Anders spat back.

"Shut up the both of you. I can go back and blackmail Isabela and Aveline to come with me instead - actually - scratch that they fight like cat and dog too." Hawke mumbled at the end.

"That's because he's a wild beast." Anders half growled.

"Want to repeat that _mage_?" Fenris was almost an inch away from the blond's face, his markings glowing bright blue.

"Enough. I'm getting Isabela and Varric and you two can both leave!" Gareth huffed and his two friends backed away from each other. "Thank you. Now you understand we need to work together, it's dangerous down there." And with that he tied the rope to a tree stump and lowered the end into the blighted hole. Maker preserve his sanity.

* * *

Merrill kept close to Gareth as they made their way through the deep roads. Fenris stalked up ahead to be away from both the mages (at Gareth's request if just to stop the arguments) and Anders was under a 'speak about blood magic and feel an arrow in your forehead' oath. He was however under strict rules to shout if he sensed darkspawn - also under threat of death if either Fenris or they were ambushed by the creatures.

For the most part it was highly uneventful. It seemed the path had been cleared. Anders called out for the broody elf to stop when he sensed 'something' - which was highly ominous. They continued cautiously, weapons at the ready.

Then they came upon their lost Warden. Nathaniel Howe. Lightning and stone whizzed past the Champion and he felt a shield pop into existence around him as he shot a hail of arrows into the veritable horde surrounding Howe. Fenris charged into the fray, activating his markings and his sword slamming straight through the tainted monsters. It was only as the hurlocks started to thin out that Gareth noticed the arrows coming from the noble they were supposed to rescue. Shit he was a good shot. The last hurlock was frazzled by Merrill and they sheathed their weapons at the reassurances of their resident Warden.

"Nathaniel Howe?" Gareth approached the fellow archer.

"The Champion?" He smiled. "And Anders?" His gaze moved to the mage. "Ina is going to murder me if I don't tell you I found you."

"Ina? Who's that?" Hawke was trying to understand what was happening between the two men as they reacquainted with each other.

"Ina Surana. Hero of Ferelden and the only elven nobility." Anders answered.

"Elven nobility?" Fenris edged closer to the conversation. "In Ferelden you have elves in the nobility?"

"She's the Arlessa of Amaranthine. She's also a mage." Oh Anders shouldn't have mentioned that, it was if he'd omitted that little bit of information just to annoy the ex-slave. Fenris scoffed about 'New Tevinter' and wandered slightly away.

"As lovely as it is to be chatting. I was sent by your sister Nathaniel. She was worried, she asked me to bring you back to Kirkwall." Gareth wasn't in the mood for more mage talk.

"Then I'm glad she sent you, but we cannot leave yet. I lost my troops and I really can't go back without them. Not only would Ina declare war on the deep roads, but she might have me strung up for not attempting to find them."

"Isn't that what Wardens do? Declare war on the deep roads?" Hawke couldn't help but quip at that.

"Not all the time, we're as much protectors of the people as well as the scourge of darkspawn." Nathaniel sighed.

"So let's go find your troops." Hawke could see that if he didn't help this lost Warden that he wouldn't come back from this excursion into the deep roads.

* * *

Two days and nights. Merrill snuggled so close to Gareth he was pretty sure if she tried it she'd become melded to his chest. If he didn't have the double size bedroll he blanched to think what Merrill might have done down here. Probably attempt to break the stone ceiling away so she could see the sun. Oh Isabela was going to have his guts for garters for taking Merrill down here. "Merrill... honey could you stop trying to constrict around me?" The elf muttered and relinquished a little of the space for him. "Thank you." He breathed a little easier.

"I hate the deep roads. Why am I here again?" Anders shifted in his own bedroll to face Hawke.

"Because you're my friend and if anything ever happened down here again I'd have murdered you for not coming?" He smirked. "I'm not having a repeat of my first time down here."

"No... I understand." He looked at a nondescript patch of rock. "I'm sorry about that. You were going to bring me because you didn't want anything to happen to Bethany. I... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry you kept your clinic open and saved lives on a daily basis instead?" His eyebrows rose together. "One life or near on fifty-something? I'm being incredibly selfish asking you here now."

"But... Bethany."

"Beth understood the risks when she said it was either the darkspawn or the templars. She died a free mage." Hawke thought about his own words. "And how many mages can say that they were always free?"

"I... understand. I'm still sorry though." He looked away. "You're too diplomatic sometimes. But if anything happened to you or..."

"Or Fenris or Merrill, I would never forgive you for not coming." Hawke continued. "Fenris is a good friend, I know you two never see eye to eye and never will but you're a healer. You're a Grey Warden."

"I am. Thank you Hawke."

* * *

Four days and nights. "Fenris are you drinking?" Nathaniel glanced over at the tevinter elf.

"If I am?" He drawled.

"We're in the deep roads! Why would you even bring alcohol?" Gareth rolled his eyes. Whenever they set up camp Fenris would somehow have enough wine on his person to drink. Did he actually bring anything else in his pack? "You need to stay alert down here. It's dangerous!"

"I know." Fenris snapped. "You think I've never been here before?"

"And here I though Oghren was the only one who drank in these horrid tunnels." Nathaniel muttered.

"Could we stop bickering tonight? How far away could your troop be?" Hawke stared into the small fire they'd made, pulling off his gauntlets to warm his hands.

"Honestly... there were women in my troop. Grey Wardens cannot leave a woman down here without knowing if she is dead or not."

"Why? Are not men and women equal in the Wardens?" Gareth queried.

"They are. But the darkspawn use women to breed." He baulked upon hearing that. He never should have brought Merrill down here. He understood now why they'd been down here so long. "Fenris will you stop drinking and stay alert!" Nathaniel snapped.

"I am alert. Stop your mother henning." Fenris snapped back.

"That's it! If I hear one more raised voice I am going to embed an arrow in that person's head. Mark my words!" Hawke glared at the two broody men as well as Anders for good measure.

"No more drinking then..." Fenris trailed off. "I hate it down here."

"We all do." Nathaniel murmured.


	4. Amber and Warm - for ffdrake

Author note: This is the shortest prompt I've had yet! From the every wonderful **ffdrake**, beta extraordinaire and bestie! His stories The Five Wardens and TFW: Awakening are fantastic (and I beta for them so go read... I mean you in the back who's fidgeting...) This is his prompt for me:

" MHawke/Merrill/Isabela a night of drinking! "

Might dust off Gareth Hawke from my last chapter... Set in the middle of Act 2 this time. Bethany is dead in the deep roads and his LI is set! Leandra is still alive though. It ended up a bit suggestive... but that's Isabela for you. Varric just stumbled in at the end for my own amusement! It helps that I was getting slowly ratted myself as I wrote this. Chardonnay and Pinio Grigio - I love my white wine! Cyber wine for everyone who sends me a prompt.

* * *

Wicked Grace night at Gareth's estate. Fenris had declined the invitation which was odd because the elf never declined a night of his (free) alcohol, as had Anders and Aveline and (the shock horror of it) Varric. Seeing as it was just he, Isabela and Merrill for the night in; their resident pirate had suggested making the game more _suggestive _- as if any thing Isabela did wasn't so! Merrill agreed before Hawke had had the chance to turn Isabela down. Damnation!

Hawke leaned back on his chair. "Three serpents. Read them and weep ladies." He chuckled before laying out the serpents of sovereigns, pearls and hearts.

"Not so fast sweet thing. The maiden, mother and crone all of pearls. I think you've lost." Isabela propped her booted legs up on the table, her black panties on show as she leaned forward, her breasts straining against her tunic, to grab Gareth's bottle of spiced Rivaini rum. A bottle he may or may not have bought because Isabela had said it was better than Antivan brandy, Orlesian Chardonnay and Tevinter Aggregio Pavali all at once. If it was anything Hawke was passionate about - it was trying different things. He liked saying he was a connoisseur of alcohol. That was his reasoning oh - and being a 'selfless prig' as Isabela had once let slip. He'd mainly bought it because he knew Isabela would like it. He just did that sort of things for friends.

"The shirt?" Gareth raised an eyebrow. "You're going to get me and Merrill naked aren't you?"

"Sweet thing, if I want you both naked I don't need to play cards." Isabela chuckled. Gareth grumbled before slipping his shirt off and discarding it to where both his boots, both socks and his extra pair of socks had been chucked. Merrill was currently down to her vest and smallclothes so all the rest of her clothes were already in the heap. Unsurprisingly Isabela hadn't taken a single item off yet.

"I'm so glad I asked Orana to light the fire today."

"Gareth..." Merrill was staring at her hand. "Are these any good?" He leaned over to his lover and had a peek seeing as both his and Isabela's hands were on the table. Shit...

"Merrill has the maiden, mother, crone and serpent of ropes. You know what that means 'Bela." He laughed. If it was any guess - Isabela had cheated so Merrill had won that round. There was no way Merrill had gotten those cards by sheer luck. The fact that most of the picture cards were used in that hand was too much of a coincidence.

"Aw, and here I thought I was just going to watch you both strip for me." She pouted before unbuckling and slipping off her long left boot and flexing her bare foot on the table.

"Argh! Boot feet!" Merrill wrinkled her nose and blushed. "I didn't mean that! Your legs are lovely but-"

"They stink. I need a bath, do you think I need a bath Hawke?"

"Yes. I'm not going to lie. If you're staying the night I'll have Bodahn draw one up for you in the morning." Gareth smiled. Well it was a good thing the guest rooms had been sorted out in case any of his friends crashed for the night, although having ones made up for Isabela, Fenris, Varric and Anders (because Aveline always returned to Donnic's house no matter now tired she was) seemed a little pre-emptive now.

"Thanks sweetie!" Isabela grabbed the bottle of Rivaini rum and drained away about an inch of it. "I can drink properly now!"

"You weren't drinking properly before? How do you do that? I can't help but swallow when I drink." Merrill babbled. Isabela spluttered on the rum. Hawke turned bright red. "Did I miss something?"

"No Merrill." Gareth cut off Isabela before she could say anything. "I'll shuffle the next round." He reached for the assorted hands and the deck, shuffling the cards quickly and thoroughly as his hands betrayed how close to being utterly embarrassed he was about to have been.

* * *

Everyone was down to their small clothes (and thankfully for Merrill her breast band) thanks to some quick 're-arranging' of the cards on Hawke's part. Isabela knew he was cheating, he knew she was - it's just what rogues do. Merrill was just an innocent bystander in this though. He reached for the rum and poured it until his tumbler was full.

"It's my turn to shuffle!" Isabela yanked the deck of cards from the archers grasp, her breasts jiggling free as she advanced.

"I always get good hands when Isabela shuffles!" Merrill giggled, reaching for her alarmingly empty glass of wine. Her cheeks were flushed and Gareth couldn't help but think it was adorable. But he couldn't let Isabela know that or she'd play it to her advantage.

Gareth grabbed his now full tumbler and downed the lot of the spiced liquor. It was warm just to smell, cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg with the distinctive tang of strong rum in a gooey amber wonderfulness. It slipped down much too easily. He'd have to order more from Vincento when he was back in town, as well as a replenishing of his Antivan brandy and some Ferelden ales for a taste of home.

Isabela dealt out the hand and Gareth looked at the cards he'd been given. Curses on Andraste's flaming smalls! The six of ropes and four of pearls. Merrill looked at her cards and furrowed her brow as if in deep concentration and Isabela took a brief glance at her own hand, her usually expressive face the perfect 'Grace Face'.

"Hit me then." Isabela drew another two cards from the deck and slid them across the table. Maker! Nine of pearls and the Crone of sovereigns! it was a terrible hand. Not that he was going to let Isabela have the satisfaction of knowing that. She most probably already knew. "Play on ladies..."

"Hit me?" Merrill tried and Isabela passed her another two cards. She stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth when she looked at them all together, as if trying to understand them.

"And two for me." Isabela drew two cards for herself and looked briefly at her hand. "Well well well, I think this is what's known as Andraste's smile?" She slowly flipped the two, three, four and five of hearts onto the table, grinning like that cat that had caught the canary. It was a low hand, but one that would beat most pairs or other running numbers.

"I don't know... but I think you call it a piece of shit?" Hawke countered with as he laid out his terrible hand.

"I don't know if my hand has a name." Merrill pursed her lips as she placed her cards down. four, five, six and seven of pearls. The Pirate's smile. Hearts and Pearls were equal... well so were sovereigns (Kings smile if you could get running numbers) and ropes (Beggar's smile).

"That's the Pirate's smile sweetness." Isabela looked over to Gareth. "Which means your lovely hunk of Hawke loses this round. Off with the smallclothes!"

Gareth grumbled as he stood up. They'd literally taken the very clothes from his lean body. He fingered the band atop his smallclothes. "You don't really want me to take these off do you?" He posed.

"Off, off, off, off!" Isabela and Merrill chanted both. Hawke sighed. Oh of all the things, Merrill tipsy and Isabela roaring drunk to have him strip. The irony was not lost on him that he was still the most level-headed despite the copious amounts of rum he'd knocked back. He peeled off his smallclothes and stood in front of them in all his naked glory.

"Happy now? You've seen it... can I get dressed again?" He sad down again and reached for the bottle, drinking as much as he could before he needed to breathe again.

"Oh that was delicious Hawke. Merrill is a very lucky girl." Isabela grinned, her teeth baring in was looked like a predatory gesture.

"Oh I am. Reth is so lovely and his tongue baths..." Merrill trailed off, staring at the increasingly reddening Hawke.

"Merrill..."

"His tongue baths?" Isabela arched an eyebrow at Gareth. "You're treating our lovely elven lass to tongue baths? Why was I left out of this?"

"Because..." Gareth started and suddenly felt the temperature of the room drop.

"Andraste's tits!" He turned to see his favourite dwarf in the doorway... as well as his mother.

"Gareth Malcolm Hawke! What are you doing!" He hastily grabbed his smallclothes and covered his nakedness. His mother. Isabela was tittering as if someone had told the most hilarious joke since time had began and Merrill was hidden under the table, reaching for as many clothes as she could from her hiding space.

"Drinking with my friends?" He tried. His mother stared at him and he felt so very transparent at that moment. Ok, Wicked Grace night was going to be relocated to The Hanged Man from now on.


	5. Ser Broodsalot - for Hatsepsut

Author note: So the prompts are coming thick and fast! Up to chapter 11 booked in prompts! Do keep on sending them and if anyone else wants to start doing this be my guest! (I started a community where people who like prompts can read prompt work. If you know of good prompt stories give me a PM, or even if you plan on starting one!) Good golly I said 'prompt' a lot of times there! Prompt prompt prompt - yuck! doesn't it feel weird saying the same word over an over? It's like it's not even a word any more!

**Hatsepsut** I love your Fenris/Hawke stories and the smut so it's an honour to do a prompt for you. And your Varric POV story! I demand any who read this one-shot go and read that in the very least. A laugh a minute.

" Varric comforts a heartbroken Hawke after Fenris has left by telling her a fairytale. Make is sappy or funny, but she has to make snarky remarks along the way and he must scold her like a five year old, like "Hawke, be nice, or I'll have the dragon eat Ser Broodsalot" " This is the only one I'm having the default Hawke name in. Because... just because. Had to end it on that strangely soppy note though, I'm bowing to the fans here, not secretly going 'yay'...

* * *

Marian Hawke sighed, her head dropping down onto the table in Varric's suite, the mug of ale that the infamous and gorgeous dwarf had bought for her on his table abandoned.

"So what's eating you up Chuckles?" Varric edged the mug back to her mop of black hair that was covering the pale skin of her face - making it look as if she didn't actually have a face, just the back of a head glued to the table. "Do I have to call you Broody too now?" And with that there was a faint whimper from the usually joyful and downright witty warrior woman. Ah... Varric now knew exactly why Hawke was here moping on his table. Her and the broody elf must have had a fight or something. "Lighten up, I'll let you stroke my glorious chest hair. Just don't tell Bianca." That elicited more of a response.

Hawke raised her head from the table, eyebrows risen nearly all the way up to her hairline, her insatiable grin plastered on her face again. "Oh can I now? Bianca is going to be so upset."

"You're joking. -_Cough- _Bianca said no." Marian's head banged back down on the table. "What me to tell you a story?" He cooed as if speaking to a five year old.

"Please Daddy Varric!" Hawke crooned into the table. "Your bedtime stories are the best!"

"Well let's see. A tale of dragons, distressed maidens and dashing knights for my favourite snarky warrior herself?" He wandered to a bookcase and pulled out a thinnish blank book as well as a sping-loaded pen he'd had made so he didn't have to go about the whole business of dipping and dripping ink everywhere with a quill, he could just up and write. "I've always wanted to branch out into children's literature." He mused as he dropped the book to the table.

* * *

_The dragon swept over the group, Ser Broodsalot scowled at it as if it had personally affronted him-_

* * *

"Personally affronted him?" Hawke laughed. It was good to see her laugh. "I thought you wanted to write a kid's story Varric, children can't read that!"

"Their parents could. I don't expect they'd be sitting down on their own. Now shh, I'm creating the scene!"

* * *

_-s if it had personally affronted him. The dashing dwarven prince of merchants gave a low whistle. "Well Bianca, I think we have a friend for you." _

_"Yes, because everybody wants to be friends with a huge dragon." Ser Broodsalot drawled._

_"We need to get to it, and kill it before it attacks the city." Knight Red had her sword and shield out, following the direction the dragon had just gone to. _

* * *

"Knight Red! Aveline's going to kill you!" Hawke snorted. "_Red is too common_." She mocked. Her impression of Aveline was way off the mark, but Varric wasn't going to laugh for the sake of the joke. He impatiently tapped the top of his pen on the book.

"Attention Hawke. I hate to repeat myself."

"I'll be good." She grinned and reached for her mug of ale. Stuff that cures all that ails you.

* * *

_There was a moment of silence. "I've never fought a dragon. I always thought they were bigger, I mean, he is rather large yes, but I would have though he would be even bigger." Serah Chatterley babbled, her frail form leaning heavily onto her stave. _

_"Do we need to bring her?" The blond at the back of the group moaned._

_"Kitten? You need to be quiet. Ser Blondie of the Higher Justice is trying to think." Cinderbella the pirate soothed.  
_

* * *

"Ser Blondie of the Higher Justice? If you publish this I want to be there when Knight-Commander Meredith gets a peek. Two mages in the story! She'll have a fit!"

"They're not mages in my story Hawke, they're characters. Now button it before I get upset." Varric smirked. "Now where was I... ah yes."

* * *

_"All this talk isn't going to get Maid Marian back!" Ser Broodsalot snapped. _

* * *

"Maid Marian! I'm the damsel in distress! I thought I was your hero Varric!" Hawke moaned into her mug. "Your readers will be ever so confused."

"Different readers." Varric responded. "Stop interrupting, I'm getting into the flow of it now."

"All sctummed." Marian drew a line across her pursed lips. "It's nice to see my first name though." She got glared at. "All sctummed."

* * *

_The group of fighters followed their brooding knight when he stalked off to fight the dragon that had seperated him from the lovely Maid Marian. _

_They soon found the dragon up in the -_"Hmmm, ah..."

_-Massive Head Trauma Bay. It's massive talons scraping on the horde of gold and rubies it was perched on. Ser Broodsalot stared at the dragon, his gaze unwavering as it blinked it's cat-like eyes. The tension only peaked when he noticed Maid Marian attempting to scale the dragon, her dress in tatters.  
_

* * *

"My dress is in tatters now?" Hawke sighed. "I think I prefer being the hero."

"Hawke..."

"Oh... sctummed."

* * *

_Knight Red, Serah Chatterley, Cinderbella, Ser Blondie and the Dwarven Prince stumbled into the clearing to see their dashing Ser Broodsalot charge at the dragon, his broadsword sweeping huge gashes at the dragon's fore-limbs. _

_"Aw shit... _"Oops. Can't say that in a children's story." Varric scribbled the expletive out.

_"Oh no! The cavalry is here Maid Marian!" The Dwarven Prince unhooked his beloved crossbow Bianca and started fired bolts of great precision into the dragon's flank. Knight Red ran up to the dragon and started pounding her shield at the joints of it's legs, shattering it's bones and dodging the fire it threw at the ginger warrior. Ser Blondie and Serah Chatterley raised their staves in unison, a cacophony of fierce ice and earth slamming into the dragon full force and halting the onslaught of fire. Cinderbella dashed around the dragon, cutting sharp and quick into it's thick hide and knocking chunks of scales out of it's skin.  
_

_Ser Broodsalot could see the dragon was faltering and that he would soon be reunited with his Maid Marian. He broke into a sprint-_

* * *

"What's Maid Marian doing?" Hawke was propped on one elbow, the other hand idly on her half empty mug of ale, enraptured in the story. "Maid Marian should be doing something. You can't have stupid Ser Broodsalot being the-"

"Hawke, be nice, or I'll have the dragon eat Ser Broodsalot!" Varric really was having his patience tested.

"Fine..." Marian grumbled, downing the rest of her mug in one gulp. "Still can't see why I'm not the hero."

* * *

_He broke into a sprint, his sword raised high and he slid in the gore around the dragon, slicing deep into it's exposed and weaker belly. Maid Marian's eyes widened as she saw her dashing knight fight so close to the dragon, when she saw the dragon make an attempt to thrash him out of the way she jumped atop it's spiked head and thrust her fingers into it's eyes.  
_

* * *

"Yay! I did something!" Marian cheered, quickly pursing her lips when Varric stopped scribbling the story down to stare at her. "Schtummed."

* * *

_Ser Broodsalot made a final swipe with his broadsword into the belly of the beast, the dragon collapsing onto it's side in a very dramatic heap. He stood up from the sandy floor and saw his Maid Marian clutching for dear life atop the creature's head. "It's over." He was out of breath yet he offered her a gore slicked hand._

_Maid Marian grabbed the offered limb. "A favour for the hero?" She smiled, the dimples in her cheeks puckering the rosy skin._

_"And what sort of favour would that be?" Ser Broodsalot asked, a rare smile turning up the corners of his mouth._

_"This." And Maid Marian jumped into his arms, kissing him right in front of all their friends._

* * *

"Argh." Hawke grimaced. "And does he leave her straight away after that?"

"And they lived happily ever after." Varric spoke tersely. He'd had enough of the interruptions. "So I'm guessing you being here all mopey is because of our very own Ser Broodsalot?"

"Don't Varric. That was a lovely story but I'm going to head home now." Hawke sighed and picked herself up from the low chair.

* * *

The incident with the blood mage that took Hawke's mother away from her and the Arishok happened too quickly after that. And for all the tension between Hawke and Fenris, they still hadn't really spoken about what had happened between them. Fenris had left shortly after the Qunari uprising, half because Hawke asked him to find Isabela after she'd disappeared after bringing back the Tome of Koslun and half because she couldn't stand the atmosphere. Varric couldn't blame her. It was awkward when the two of them were together.

Then Hawke burst into Varric's suite looking incredibly flushed and not even in her heavy chainmail or plate armour.

"Drinks first - talking later." She moaned, slumping gracelessly to the closest chair to where Varric had been idling the past hour.

"What has you all worked up now O Great Champion?" Varric quipped.

"I need you to write more fairytales." She breathed. And that was enough for the dwarf. He understood it all now.

"Got a date for the nugling?" He asked, standing up to pull out the book he'd written the story of Ser Broodsalot in.

"Seven more months."

"I guess I'll have to write a few of our adventures down. How is our broody elf taking the news? Assuming you've sent word to him." He continued interrogating her for a few more hours, Hawke mumbling some of the details. "So why haven't you told him yet?" He asked at the end of the tale.

"Because this isn't a story Varric. Just because I'm pregnant won't mean Fenris will come back. And what if he did... I'd just be shackling him with something else."

"Andraste's tits Hawke." Varric shook his head. Looks like it was going to be up to him to sort this one out. For Maid Marian and Ser Broodsalot if not for his friends. He didn't like lying to children and the response he'd had so far on that particular story had been quite good...


	6. Not a Mage - for Rennf002

Author note: So my little sister **Rennf002** wants me to do a prompt for her. This is what she said...

" What if Revka Amell's child wasn't a mage. If when Hawke turns up in Kirkwall the Amell family is still influential? "

This is the meeting between Hawke and Amell in the Gallows when Amell's Ferelden cousin of an apostate turns up with the other refugees.

* * *

Temperance Amell sighed and smoothed down the velvet of the dress her mother had made her put on. It was purple and clashed horrendously with her ginger hair. But that never seemed a problem with her mother. 'The De Launcets are wearing purple, Dulci nearly fainted when the Nevarran lilac fabrics arrived in the market!' Oh how she despised the whole lot of it. Now leathers, yes she could quite happily go out in any colour of those. Get her bow and quiver on her back and you had a happy business woman. Or perpetual spinster - depending on who's side you were on, hers or her mothers. If you were on hers, she was the only thing that had meant her father and uncle's gambling debts hadn't bankrupted the family. If you were on her mothers, she was un-marriageable because of her attitude and her constant 'business' dealings.

She took a deep breath in. Meeting family, nothing worrying about that - except it was family that had been estranged from her their entire lives. "Aunt Leandra?" She strode past the guardsmen by the Gallows gates, her mother had described what this aunt of hers looked like - but the information was about twenty years out of date.

"Temperance? Oh you've grown up so much!" The woman she'd addressed almost ran up to her and drew her into a hug. "Oh I remember when you were born! Your grandmother, my mother, cursed that glorious crown of ginger."

Well that wasn't what she'd expected. To be completely honest she'd expected someone just as stuffy as her own mother. It was - refreshing. She took a step back and smoothed down her dress yet again. If she came back wrinkled up it would only go badly for her. "I take it I was right then. It's a pleasure to meet you although I hardly remember you at all." She turned her attention to the three other women who accompanied her aunt. "And these must be my cousins... and someone else. How do you do?"

"I could be better. Three days of sitting on the stone of the Gallows really gives you a pain in th-" Leandra cut off her blonde daughter with the daggers strapped to her back. "I'm Charity by the way."

"And I thought my name was horrid." Temperance almost giggled. "And you are?" She turned to the other one, a pretty black haired woman with a pole arm on her back.

"Bethany." She was sweet. Temperance could see it in the whole way she held herself. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Likewise. You're the only one with an acceptable name out of all of us cousins. Now you - you may have the same colour hair as me but you are definitely not an Amell." She stated to the third one, sword and shield... a warrior.

"Aveline Vallen. It's nice to meet you Lady Amell." She gave her a short bow. Polite.

"So I've greased some palms to get you all into the city. You're coming with me, I had a servant start making up the guest rooms in the estate."

"We're going to pay you back." Charity stated.

"I can't let you put yourself out on my behalf-" Aveline was stopped she sauntered up to the warrior woman and placed a finger to her lips.

"It is no trouble. You can pay me back if you wish. I'm the only one making any money for the family so I suppose it would be quite nice to get it back." Temperance liked both her cousins, this Aveline and her aunt. Blunt, sweet, _charitable_, snarky. Yes. She liked them.

"What happened to my brothers?" Leandra asked. Oh... there was something she couldn't just blurt out to someone she just met. Temperance tried her best 'I'm truly sorry' expression.

"Uncle Gamlen and my father Damion? Both worthless drunkards and gamblers who nearly put the family under. Thanks to yours truly and my mother we're still nobility, even if I'm earning our money rather than sitting around complaining about which silks I don't like and shopping." She hugged Leandra when she saw the look of utter shock on her face. "If it makes you feel any better I hate silk."

"I can't believe it." Leandra croaked.

"I can. It's totally believable. I'd have expected much worse." Charity started pacing. "So we earn our money. Is there a way of making coin in this city for refugees?"

"You could join the city guard, be a merchant, odd-jobs men make a fair bit if they're pounding the streets daily and if you're not too bothered by who you deal with there's mercenary groups and smugglers that are always looking for volunteers. They're supposed to pay well but personally I would say stay on the right side of the law." She shrugged, to be honest with what she'd seen so far - refugees were having a lousy time in Kirkwall.

"I erm... How can we keep Bethany safe Mother?" Charity turned to Leandra.

"Keep her safe? I don't follow..." Temperance furrowed her brow.

"Bethany... is a mage." She whispered the last part.

"She can stay in the estate. I don't think trained mages have outbursts any more do they?" Temperance took that in her stride. In all honesty, there had been a chance she would have been born a mage herself with the way the Amell family had it in their blood.

"You'd look after an apostate? Just like that?" Bethany's eyes widened.

"Why not?" She smiled.

"Indeed. What's in it for you?" Charity turned to her, a sceptical eyebrow raised.

"It suits me, I get two cousins for my mother to fawn over and stuff into ruffled Orlesian dresses. Honestly - if either of you want that then welcome aboard, apostate or no." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not one for that. I have my businesses and I have my bow."

"Oh everything I wear absolutely must be flowing with ruffles!" Charity snorted. "Beth I think this is your cue to be a lamb for slaughter."

"I... I always dreamed for a life where I could be something other than a mage." Bethany's eyes watered. "You don't know how much this all means to me, having all this I mean. The acceptance."

"I'm like that. Now come along, we'll get fined for loitering." Temperance put her arm around her apostate cousin and Charity helped Leandra as they walked to the estate.

* * *

A year later...

"Temp!" Charity yelled into the study. Temperance looked up from the forms she'd been busying herself with for the last hour or so. "I've found a way to pay you back which isn't grovelling or anything!" She quirked an eyebrow. Now that sounded interesting. Charity had been doing moonlight work for The Red Iron mercenaries for a while, as well as a smuggler called Athenril. Neither had been very profitable but the blonde woman had enjoyed the experience.

"Well. Don't keep me in suspense." She drawled as she popped her quill pack in the inkwell.

"I've found out about a deep roads expedition. Will you come along with me and use those 'business' skills of yours?" Charity gave her cousin a lopsided grin.

"More business. Just let me get out of my housecoat and I'll join you." She rolled her eyes. This would be incredibly interesting, the only deep roads expeditions she knew of were being done by the dwarven merchant guilds. People she'd been itching to speak to about new ventures.

* * *

"I can't believe he turned your offer down!" Charity moaned. "Bartrand can suck an egg."

"That's the spirit!" Temperance laughed. "So where are we headed... let's get a drink to drown in eh?" They walked in companionable silence as they left the dwarven merchant's guild. A scruffy looking man with a shock of ginger hair dashed past them and Charity patted her coin purse instinctively, a habit Temperance had gotten her into since she had her pockets picked after her first 'job'. It was gone.

"Hey! Come back here!" Charity yelled after him. Temperance and she exchanged glances and broke into a run after him. To see a dwarf pin the man to a stone wall with a crossbow bolt. Well how was that for interesting...

* * *

"I think you should take this Varric Tethras up on his offer Hawke." Temperance stared down at their thief catcher. Not bad to look at and definitely a 'business' minded person, just as she was. And that chest hair... oh that was the stuff of the best dreams. She may or may not have just gotten a 'thing' for a certain dwarf. Come to think of it... she was pretty sure she'd encountered the name 'Varric' before.

"If I could get fifty sovereigns I'd nearly be able to pay you back... ok, I'd need something more like one hundred." Charity mused. It _had _taken a lot of coin to get her cousins into the city. But then again - it was coin she was entitled to spend. Sure she'd had to work almost twice as hard at her 'investments' and 'businesses' since spending such an odious amount of money but for the way her mother had eased off the 'spinster' talk - it was worth every copper.

"The deep roads are rich in stuff that the nobles of Kirkwall and beyond would be more than willing to shed their inherited money on." Temperance pointed out. "You'd be able to pay me back with the money you'd make from this venture and if you wanted to - you could move into your own estate in Hightown. Not that I don't like you around. Mother loves to play dollies with you and Bethany much more than me."

"All the more reason to get out of Aunt Revka's grasp!" Charity chuckled. "Varric Tethras, I'll take you up on this. It's not like I had any better plans."

"Perfect." Varric grinned. "It's been delightful meeting you both."

"Yes. And if you so much as use our first names in public we'll hurt you." Charity smiled sweetly.

"Temperance and Charity? Never... Amell and Hawke right?" He chuckled. "And it's just Varric if you please."

"This could be the start of something quite wonderful." Charity gave her cousin a thumbs up. She said she'd found a way to pay her back the coin... Temperance supposed she had.


	7. Heartstrings - for Kyla Baines

Author note: Oh this one is so sad. Prompted by the amazing** Kyla Baines** and you should totally check out Duty and Devotion by her to see some amazing pre-Blight Solona Amell and Cullen.

" ... Or you could really tear apart both of our heartstrings and have f!Cousland not get recruited, and have her and Gilmore die together when Highever gets razed. Oh, that's just evil of me. *sobs* "

So that's the prompt for this one... it's going to involve death (obviously), maybe with a bit of Roland Gilmore/Cousland romance to stop it being so maudlin (inspired by Immortality's Ser Gilmore NPC mod)... It tugs on the heartstrings to write this. Basically - Duncan isn't present in Highever to conscript a stubborn Cousland into leaving the castle.

Additional note: I had a lump in my throat at the end of this.

* * *

Heidi Cousland was woken by her Mabari, Teryn, his frantic barks and scrabbling at the door. "What is it Terry?" She muttered to the tiring animal. He growled at the bottom of the door. "Well go get those rats. I was sleeping." She pulled the coverlets back over herself.

Teryn shook his shaggy head, what a mistress! He howled softly and she plodded out of the bed, a glare fixed on him. "If this is just your way of saying you want to do out I shan't get you bacon bits ever again." She muttered. He yapped his disapproval at her and continued to growl at the door. "Fine. If you see this as so important, allow me to at least put some clothes on. Maybe grab my sword." Heidi couldn't believe she was actually talking to her mabari. Or worse - tat he understood her. Mabari were too damned smart for their own good.

Teryn watched the door while his mistress put on her under-padding and strapped on some of her plating for her chest and arms and pulled out the broadsword she used in sparring. He barked at her when the wooden door shuddered in it's hinges and the warrior watched it with bated breath. "Ok, I'm paying attention now." She wiped the residual sleeping dust from her eyes, the sleep almost vanishing with the stark awareness that came with the strange occurrences. The door flew open on it's hinges, splintering with the effort.

"There's the Teryn's daughter! Get her!" She stared wide-eyed as the three men in studded leathers came through the doors. Holy Andraste! Training took over when the first arrow misfired and skittered off her angled shoulder guard. Not taking the time to even process it all properly she dashed forward, her massive sword swinging in a huge arc and bifurcating the three men in one fell swoop. Yes - this was why she used the unwieldy weapon - it was powerful even if it was heavy. Their bottom halves slumped to the ground slower than their top halves. It was grotesque. What was happening?

Heidi peeked round the remnants of her bedroom door and saw the four men hammering on her parent's door. Shit. She called Teryn to heel as she hurriedly strapped her plating to her legs and shucked on a chain gambeson over the top of al her plating, wrapping a thick belt around her waist to keep the gambeson on properly. It was the wrong way round but something was odiously wrong here. Lastly she slipped on her leather boots with the heavy plated toes and marched out. "And what is happening here?" She demanded.

"Ah shit." The tallest man started at the warrior as if something had gone wrong. "Come on boys! Kill the bitch!" The four started toward her, dual daggers, sword and shields getting closer. Heidi commanded her mabari forward and Teryn sprang at the closest one, instantly attaching powerful jaws to his throat. Heidi clashed with the 'leader' her sword clanging against his kite shield as he parried her blow. He moved quickly and got a good jab under her arm. Maker! Nothing could compare to that feeling of having her skin pierced. She blinked back the tears welling in her eyes and clamped her teeth together to stop herself from screaming. These men would not get the satisfaction that they'd hurt her.

She moved against the pain and leapt up with her sword sweeping downwards in a mighty blow, not only cracking the man's heavy armour but cleaving heavily into his shoulder. Blood spurted thick from his new wound and he cried out. Heidi kicked him back with her weighted boot, he would be no use in a fight now and she could turn her attention to the others.

Teryn finished his mauling of the dual wielder and limped a run into the next man in leathers who was advancing on his mistress, he latched his teeth into his calf, distracting the man as his head was lopped from his shoulders by his mistress. The last man was quivering where he stood. Teryn knew his mistress would deal with him and so finished off the downed sword and shield wielder before the man could finish unhooking the health poultice from his belt.

Heidi used her broadsword like a pike and charged it straight through the last, leather clad opponent. He gurgled and dropped as a dead weight on the end of the huge sword and she had to yank it out of his bloodied corpse. Her parent's door whipped open and she briefly saw her mother dressed up in her old leathers with her hunting bow notched before an arrow whizzed past her. She spun on the spot to see it embed in the neck of a man with rough leathers who she hadn't seen in her bids to stop her parents from being killed by the four pounding on their door.

"Heidi!" Her mother breathed. "You're bleeding!" And with the adrenaline of the battle no longer coursing through her veins, she really felt the lucky jab that sliced into her armpit. She hazarded a look at it and saw the twisted chainmail that had broken in the impact and the blood seeping into her under-padding and dripping into the links of the chain.

"You wouldn't have... something for it would you mother?" Heidi huffed, feeling awfully light-headed from the wound. Her mother pulled a red potion from a pouch on her belt, uncorking it with a thumbnail and pressing it to her daughters lips. She felt the hand rubbing down her neck to help the thick, bitter liquid down. The pain subsided slightly and she felt the tissues half-mending under the effects of the potion.

"Maker's blood. They meant to kill us." The Teryna turned her gaze to the dead so close to them, the sick welling in her stomach. "They're Rendon Howe's men! Have you seen your father? He didn't come to bed." She cried when she recognised a face.

"I was asleep. No, I haven't." Heidi looked through hooded eyes to the heraldry on the kite shield. The brown bear of Amaranthine. But why? Why would Uncle Rendon do this? "Teryn was barking for a while before I figured out something was wrong." Heidi felt ashamed. If she'd thought that her dog was telling her something she might have been quicker. Wouldn't have used that potion that they would undoubtedly need if they were under attack and if it wasn't just a few rebellious men deciding to do this.

"Oriana and Oren... their door is open..." The colour drained from her mother's face. Heidi hadn't seen hide nor hair of her sister-by-marriage or nephew. Maker... if her dismissal of her mabari had meant... no, it couldn't mean that. It couldn't.

"I dread to say it mother. But let's see if they're ok." Oriana may not have been trained in combat but she knew her way around poisons and traps. Skills from a 'misspent' youth in Antiva. In Heidi's opinion right now - if it had saved their lives it was hardly misspent.

The two women and a mabari edged to the opened door, an Amaranthine shield on the back of a corpse on the ground. There was a claw trap clamped shut on his leg, viscous green liquid oozing from the bloody limb. It smelt worse than it looked. And it looked gristly. _That from the woman who serves me my tea! _Her brothers words echoed in her head and Heidi hoped that it meant Oriana had been able to outwit their attackers with her poisons and traps rather than by blades.

Then she saw the bodies. Three leather clad attackers that were frothing from the mouth. Poison capsules she remembered. Oriana had once tried to tell her the uses and the ingredients. How they could be used even in combat. _Elbow the throat, the mouth opens automatically. You have to be fast though, poke the capsule as far down the throat as possible and slam their jaw shut. Hold their nose so they have to swallow but the ones I use are activated with saliva. It kills them very quickly. _Then she saw Oriana and Oren, surrounded by red stained potion flasks - empty the lot of them.

Oren was propped up on the bed, a serrated dagger pulled out from a still weeping wound to his stomach. His mouth was frothed. He was given a dose before he could be killed by Howe's men or taken captive. Oriana was knelt next to the bed, a sword impaling her to the wooden side. Her killer must have been one of the men Heidi had killed. Her hand was clutched tight to Oren's, blood drying on the cooling flesh.

She hoped it was the one she'd stopped from fighting back and kicked to the floor so Teryn finished him off. He was the one who'd taken the longest to die and therefore was in pain for longer.

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no! Oriana! My little Oren!" Heidi tore her gaze from the ghastly scene to see her mother fall to her knees, tears streaming down her wrinkled face. But Heidi just felt numb. Could she have saved her sister-by-marriage and nephew if she'd not dismissed Teryn? But now wasn't the time to dwell on it all. They really must be under attack. "They're not even taking hostages..." Her mother sobbed. "They mean to kill us all."

"We need to continue mother. We'll make _Uncle _Rendon pay." She spat his name out as if it were one of the poison capsules. She noted the jar of them on the bedside dresser and slipped a handful of the pale orange tablets into the pouch on her belt. If she was backed into a corner it might be of use.

She hoisted her mother off the ground, it just felt so wrong leaving the bodies here. But they'd come back when they'd regained the castle. They'd give them a proper cremation and funeral.

* * *

Heidi stumbled into the hall, the family kite shield strapped around her back to provide extra armour. Not that it stopped one of the blighters from slipping a dagger into her side. Bodies littered the once opulent room, staining everything a brutal crimson. "Rory!" Her voice was hoarse. She saw her childhood sweetheart, now captain of the Highever forces ordering the doors barred to stop their attackers streaming through them. Ser Gilmore commanded them with ease, having served with them all for years.

"Heidi!" He gasped when he saw her in her blood stained armour. "Thank the Maker you're alive. We tried to keep the bastards away from the family wing. Are you hurt?"

"I'll survive." She grumbled, her last health poultice was fizzing through her bloodstream, knitting severed nerves back together (and stopping that glorious numb that she felt down her hamstring - bring back a searing pain before the muscle started soothing)

"Roland, we need to find Bryce." Her mother smiled at seeing the captain of the Highever men well, if bloodied from battle. It was a weak smile, a hope that things were going better for them.

"Last I saw he was headed for the escape hatch in the larder." He pointed to the kitchen for good measure. "I sent three of my men with him."

"Come with us Rory." Heidi stepped up toward him, the itch of newly mended wounds being forced back in her mind. "If we're all going to survive we need you." Teryn ruffed his approval to that.

"Can you hold the doors men?" He turned to the six Highever Knights in the room, each nodded a yes rather than speaking, four were straining against the door while two were pushing the steel bars across. "Then I'm coming with you my ladies."

"No titles Roland." Her mother took a deep breath. "Both of you up in front, you're the warriors. I'll keep Teryn back here in case."

* * *

They met strong resistance to the kitchens. The four of them worked like a force of nature, Heidi's broadsword powering through light leathers and cracking heavy silverite so the Teryna's arrows and Roland's sword could find better purchase, Roland's sword and heavy shield like typical Ferelden bullheadedness keeping their attackers from their ranged support, Eleanor Cousland using the skills that had last been used in combat back during the Rebellion to take down foes from a distance between the two warriors and Teryn tearing down soldiers and ripping their necks open like a mabari possessed.

Then they went into the kitchens. Nan, oh poor Nan! Heidi couldn't help feel the wretchedness of her death, a broken bottle in her hand dripping with blood, her neck slashed open, almost decapitating her ex-wet nurse. The sound of an arrow being notched drew her out of the macabre scene and she watched as her mother hit the assassin in the shadows between the eyes with it, the green Highever fletching nearly disappearing into his forehead. "That's for Nan." Her mother spat. Upon closer inspection - the assassin also had a gash on his face - most likely the last thing Nan had done before her demise.

All this death. Heidi didn't know if he had the stomach for it. She'd killed today. The most she'd ever done previously was fight in tourneys, the worst injuries you got in those were bruises from blunted swords or shields. Maybe a broken bone. Her mother glared at the assassin before pushing the door to the larder open.

"Bryce!" Her scream was sharp, heart-wrenching. "Bryce! Hold on!" Heidi followed her mother's frantic run into the larder to see the scene. Blood bathed the floor a carpet of burgundy, like spilled wine. Except there was no broken wine bottle, there was her father, propped to his elbows, that damned smile flickering on his face when he saw his family enter the cramped, dingy room.

"Eleanor... Heidi." He rasped. Her mother grabbed a handful of elfroot from a sack and squeezed them quickly to get their healing juices out in the open before stuffing the leaves into his mouth and helping him chew and swallow the bitter things by moving his jaw and rubbing his throat. He coughed a glob of blood over his lips. "I was so worried."

"Hush Bryce. We're here." She lovingly wiped a leather gauntlet down his face.

"And you need to go. Get away while you can." His head lolled back and her mother beat on his chest and blew hearty lungfuls of air into his mouth. Heidi held her breath while her mother went at her ministrations and she sank to her knees. This couldn't be happening. None of it could be. If they had been faster, if she'd not thought her damned mabari was worrying rats again! Why? Why had any of this happened? She wanted to scream, wanted to curse the Maker and his Bride!

Her mother sank back on her calves, her eyes streaming. "Get out of this larder Heidi. You and Roland. Get out." She thrust a finger toward the escape hatch under a bag of potatoes. "I'll cover your escape but get out of here, tell the world what happened. Tell Fergus. Kill Rendon Howe. Just live my girl. Don't give that monster the satisfaction of beating the Couslands." She collapsed in on herself, chin to chest, tears falling on the body of her husband. A lump formed in Heidi's throat. She couldn't do this, couldn't leave her mother to die. For all she knew Fergus had been ambushed on his way to Ostagar.

"No. If we die today, we'll die as a family." Her own words sent chills down her spine.

"GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW HEIDI ELEANOR COUSLAND!" Her mother near-screamed at her, her normally calm voice racked with heavy sobs. Heidi reached into her belt pouch, fishing out one of the pale orange tablets and passed it over to her mother.

"I love you. Don't give Howe any satisfaction mother." She almost whispered, afraid that if she spoke that her throat would close up any second. Her mother swallowed.

"I won't darling. Now for Maker's sake GO!" She grasped the tablet in her fingers and picked up her bow from the floor, notching an arrow. "Go now."

* * *

Roland bolted the hatch after them and they were bathed in darkness, nothing but the distant clang of metal on metal and the dull roar of flames and the panting of Teryn to fill the silence. The blood that had seeped through armour and under-padding as well as blood from various wounds drying on her skin made her feel so very dirtied. Teryn scraped his claws into the stone passage as he plodded ahead them.

"Are you hurt?" Roland broke the hush. Heidi's blood simmered at the caring words.

"Yes. I ache, I want to cry, I want to punch my way through the walls, I want to turn back and defend my home. Make their deaths not be in vain." His chestplate banged into the shield strapped to her back. "Something's wrong. I can't hear Teryn."

The two warriors stood still a moment. Heidi was right. Teryn's crunching steps couldn't be heard any more. And every sound in this tunnel echoed. They stilled even their own breaths for a while, if Teryn had somehow gotten too far ahead he might turn round... Nothing... it was like the absence of noise and that was almost as loud as a bugle at the moment.

The rogue almost popped into existence a few inches from Heidi's face. His breath was rancid and she struck out with a fist into what felt like his chest. The rogue stumbled back, the sound almost wonderful compared to nothing. But there wasn't enough space to use her broadsword. She had to crouch slightly just to walk in it. Her hand went to her belt pouch and using the sound alone - landed heavily on him.

She fumbled in the dark over the contours of his body and found his neck. She shoved a chain covered elbow into his neck with a resounding huff of air. She moved quickly to almost throw the tablet into his mouth and slammed a hand upwards on his chin to clamp his mouth shut. A dagger pierced into her side but she crushed her teeth together to forego the scream that threatened to tear out of her throat. She held his chin up so his mouth wouldn't open and pinched his nose with her other hand. She felt him start convulsing and she moved away as the froth leaked from the edges of his lips. Is she'd thought his breath was bad... that was toxic. Just what had Oriana done in her youth?

"Heidi... are you ok?" Roland spoke in a hushed tone when the sound died down.

"Dagger... right hand side." She managed, pulling herself up from the stony floor and now dead rogue. A careworn gauntlet ran down her side and she felt it when it gripped a hold of the intruding weapon. "Holy Maker Rory!" She hissed when he started to move the sharp blade out from between her ribs, the edges grazing bone.

Roland managed to pull the dagger free and threw it back. Heidi whimpered with the dagger gone and her felt the warm blood gushing into the joints in his gauntlets. She was bleeding very profusely.

"Is it... was it poisoned?" She whispered. "It burns." It was if someone had set fire to every nerve in her right hand side. She slumped into the wall and fell gracelessly in a heap. "It really burns." Her right side was half burn, the other half tingling numbness. It was so odd, as if her were turning necrotic so slowly. Lights danced in her vision, small pinpricks in the distance.

"Hold on Heidi. Hold on." His voice felt so far away. She felt so numb. So calm. The burning was horrid but with it numbness and calm descended.

"I... don't want to." She could hardly hear herself any more. Like wool hand been stuffed in her ears. What she could hear sounded slurred. Was this what dying felt like?

"Hold on. Just hold on!" His voice became higher pitched and further away, even as if she were hearing him from underwater. There was a harsh clash of more fighting in what sounded like the distance but the vibrations in the floor told her it was closer.

"My... belt. Poison tablets." She managed. The her eyes slid shut and the buzzing filled her head. The quiet clashing died down and she vaguely felt Roland next to her.

"..." She moved her mouth but it was so slow and heavy, she wasn't even sure if she'd made a noise. A warm hand put the tablet in her mouth and held it closed. With all her remaining strength she swallowed. She might have cried but after everything that had happened... it all felt like a release.

"Howe won't get the satisfaction of killing us." She heard the words hot in her ear. The convulsions shook her body and she felt as if everything was slipping away, the darkness getting blacker. The last thing she was truly aware of was chapped lips on her cheek and the pad of a thumb wiping under her eyes.

She closed her eyes. So heavy. There was no pain, no feeling whatsoever. Everything was gone and she was floating.


	8. Blushes - for Kyla Baines

Author note: So **Kyla Baines** mentioned another for me and I had to do it. Just had to because I knew it would make her smile endlessly. Plus after the last chapter... fluff is needed like no tomorrow. Because, even I was bloody weepy eyed - and I wrote it!

" Hmm... well, you know me: the first character that jumps in my mind is Cullen (*blushes*). I'd love to see a quick story that would involve a first kiss. Maybe between Cullen/Amell? "

That's the prompt up... let's get a story started eh?

Also - I know these notes are long but bear with me. My fantastic friend and beta **ffdrake** is doing prompt one-shots like me. Look it up 'Tales of the Dragon Era' and give him some!

* * *

Cera Amell flipped the page over in the book on primal magic. Senior Enchanter Sweeney was going to test how well her Rock Armour was tomorrow so she needed to really stick the knowledge in her head properly. Not that she'd been able to concentrate much in this part of the library.

Apprentices weren't allowed to take books back to their bunks. It was a stupid rule. They weren't even allowed to take them into a different section of said library. The templar in this section of the library... despite the helmet that covered his head... there was a distinctive way he stood, the way he fidgeted. She knew that hunched pair of shoulders, the hands wringing themselves behind his back. Even the way his breath was uneven under his helmet.

No denying it. It was Cullen. The mere thought that the blond templar was near her was enough to make her feel... well that was it. She didn't know! She felt safe (which for a mage around a templar was a huge thing), she felt like he was looking at her. Not just seeing the mage or Irving's star pupil. Seeing her. It was if he didn't see anything but 'her' - whatever you could call that anyway. Those heated stared made her want to pull at the high neckline of her robes as to lessen the full body blush that accompanied such gazes.

Cera snapped the book shut. She knew primal magic as if it were the back of her hand. She didn't need to revise right now. She moved from her desk and put the book back. The templar... was definitely watching her every movement. She wasn't the only mage in the room...

"You know. If you keep staring you'll never be able to stop." She winked at him. Almost instantly the plated guard started shaking. Cera stifled a giggle. That was too funny to be real. Men don't just start quaking when you speak to them... on the other hand, this needed proper testing. "Are you ok Ser?" More rattling plate. Yes. Too funny.

"Th-thank you f-f-for telling me Miss." He wiped a hand under his helmet. "I-I'm fine."

"That's good. I wouldn't want you ill now." Cera smiled. "Would you escort me back to my dormitory? It's rather late and I have a test tomorrow."

"I... er..." He noticed Ser Bran walking into the library to relieve him. "I _can_."

"But do you _want_ to?" Cera asked.

"You are relieved of duties Cullen." The second templar nodded to him and he felt very out of place as they switched places.

"So do I get someone to walk with me back to the dormitory?" Cera smirked. Cullen blushed beneath his helm. Geez it was hot under this.

"Ser Cullen - if you would walk this apprentice back to her dormitory." Ser Bran spoke, a small smile on his lips. Well that was none too subtle an order.

* * *

Cera kept her pace slow, she wanted to talk to Cullen. Or rather - watch him stutter. "H-have you been in Kinloch Hold long?" He asked, gulping back. Ah... small talk.

"Two years now." Cera shrugged. "I used to live in The Gallows. It's the Circle in Kirkwall but there was some sort of accident and we were all sent different places."

"I- I think I heard about that." Cullen mused. It had been a horrid day to be a templar. One of the Senior Enchanters became an abomination and took out thirty apprentices and ten templars - including the Knight-Commander at the time. Knight-Captain Meredith had been paraded around for her valour in the face of danger and blood magic, her report becoming an essential part of his own templar training. "W-were you present at the time it happened?"

"I was in lessons in the Primal Wing." Cera pursed her lips. "The incident happened in Creation Wing." Of course he knew that...

"Were you frightened?" Cullen asked, shocked that he hadn't stuttered that time.

"I heard about it much later. An hour. Gossip spreads fast you see." Cera smiled. Maker that smile was infectious. "The thought that someone so in control could suddenly just do that is always frightening. I think that's why mages should keep a check on themselves, rather than complaining about our lot in life we would make better use of our time contemplating how to withstand the influence of a demon. There are a lot of people who have it worse off than us."

"That sounds quite true." Cullen agreed. He'd seen the poverty some lived in when news of an apostate arose and he'd been selected in the retrieval team. The way the young thing they brought back would stand mouth agape at their new clothing - blue apprentice robes and the clean sheets on a proper bed.

"Cullen." Cera breathed. "You look at me, like I'm something." She paused a moment. "Something different."

"I... er... I." Cullen gulped and felt the blood rush full force to his face.

"I like it." She smirked. He stared down at her, short with brilliant white hair swept up into loopy bunches. Makers breath. Those pouty lips and dark eyes making her seem seen more alluring. He licked his lips and attempted to push the impure thoughts from his head. She's a mage. He's a templar.

"Maker preserve me." He uttered. She giggled and stood in front of him, staring up.

"I could do that instead." Cera arched her feet to stand on tiptoes and brushed her lips ever so lightly on his. His heart fluttered, threatening to burst through his heavy plate. He responded when she started to pull away, bringing her up once more, cradling her thin body in his arms as he claimed her lips himself, groaning as her sweet tongue sought entrance to his mouth. Her hands reached up and were in his hair, brushing the slightly sweaty blond locks between her fingers. Maker this was wrong but it felt so right, her body melded to his in fierce passion.

He finally broke the embrace and stared at those pouty lips, ever so swollen from the kiss. He took a deep breath to calm himself and saw the pink flush bloom on her cheeks. "Maker preserve me." He repeated.


	9. Misplaced Items - for Katdancer2

Author note: OMG yay! one of my favourite authors (they are all awesome but Kat is super awesome) **KatDancer2 **has given me a prompt.

"Where in Thedas do you intend to put THAT?!"

Oh this is going to be a humour prompt! Sol Mahariel and Zevran romance is more than implied, set post-landsmeet - Anora is continuing as Queen.

* * *

Sol Mahariel sighed. His lover was looting corpses. Not the most savoury of occupations - in fact it was downright disrespectful to those who had gone to the Creators side. Not that the extra coin was bad when they were hungry and they came close enough to a farmhouse or a settlement to exchange said looted coin for food. There was only so much hunting that could be done before the Dalish elf would collapse from exhaustion. Feeding seven 'humaniods' and a mabari was difficult stuff for the only trained hunter. Sure Leliana could fire a bow, but her sneaking skills were hardly spectacular.

"More daggers Zev?" He wandered up to the Antivan elf, hands clasped behind his back.

"Ah yes mi amor, rather nice ones too." He smirked, slipping one of them into a spare sheath he had on his belt. "Would you like one?"

"One of what?" He smirked back.

"Anything you like." Zevran purred, his eyebrows waggling suggestively.

"Maybe later when we've set up camp ma vhenan." Sol smiled.

Zevran pouted. "But you haven't gifted me any poisons in so long..."

"I best get to it then." He purred, leaning forward to lightly kiss the Antivan. Behind them he head Oghren making mock retching noises and the awkward shuffling of Alistair as well as Leliana giggling, Wynne and Sten's exasperated sighing and Morrigan cackling. Always the same whenever this happened in public.

Alistair cleared his throat and Sol tore himself out of the embrace. "Elgan'an - yes, we're moving okay!"

* * *

They set up camp a good mile from where they'd been ambushed on the road. It was going to be a long walk to Redcliffe at this rate. All these ambushes. At least it wasn't darkspawn he mused. They'd have more that enough of the blighted monsters later to last them a lifetime in a short while, the war council, the forces they'd gathered - they'd all be convening at Redcliffe. They'd be setting out to figure out how to defeat the Archdemon before the Blight could spread to other countries.

Zevran was sitting by the fire, cleaning the numerous blades he'd amassed and sharpening their edges with a whetstone. Sol wandered over none too casually. "Good evening ma vhenan." He soothed. Zevran was only this meticulous over looted weaponry when he was worried.

"Mi amor." He looked up from his ministrations to the smiling Dalish elf looming above him. "Is there something you want?"

"I thought I'd help you with the weaponry." He shrugged. "I have some fletching to do myself."

The two elves set about their tasks in near silence, Zevran putting the daggers into various sheaths about his body as he finished up with them and Sol sliding his arrows into his quiver as he fletched them. Zevran picked up one of the wickedly sharp daggers, brandishing it playfully at his lover.

"Do you have a sheath big enough for that one Zev?" The Dalish smirked.

"Ah... Si." Zevran smirked back standing up and slipping the dagger down his britches, threatening a pointed lump it it at Sol. "Come here and feel my dagger Warden." He purred. Sol took the bait and started running about the camp.

"Help, oh help! I have an assassin after me and his long dagger is so threatening!" He mocked. Zevran started chasing, after him and he felt all eyes watching their farce. Wynne's being the most disapproving. Or Sten's - whichever looked like they might kill them. Sten. Definitely Sten.

Zevran cornered his Warden at the entrance to his tent. "Nowhere to hide. My dagger will be swift and-" _RIIIIP_ Zevran looked down to see a large hole where the laces of his britches had once been.

"Nice dagger Zev!" Leliana chuckled. Sol had to stop himself from laughing.

"It was a rather nice pair of leathers too." Zevran slipped the dagger out and smiled. "Rather sharp dagger..."

"I think-" Sol was cut off when Alistair was staring at them wide-eyed.

Looking at the situation - Sol awkwardly splayed on the floor, Zevran leaning over him with the dagger in his hand with his trousers ripped open and slipping down his legs- Alistair was at a loss for words. "Where in Thedas do you intend to put THAT?!" He managed before turning bright red at the implications of what he'd just said.

"Well my dear blushing Warden," Zevran began. "When-"

"I think that's quite enough young men." Wynne cut him off and snatched the dagger from Zevran, pointedly staring at the Dalish and Antivan elves. "Retire from the night and leave Alistair alone for a moment?"

"But we were just explai-"

"No." Wynne cut off Zevran again. "Go to your bedroll."

"Would you like to share mine Zev?" Sol arched an eyebrow.

"Work work work!" He threw his head back in laughter. "I shall."


	10. The Goodbye - for Rennf002

Author note: So my sister **Rennf002 **wants to see a little post-DA2 goodbye. We're back to good old Gareth Hawke and Merrill from earlier chapters. I do love them but it's a short short. xxx

* * *

The chaos of the last few months had been too much too soon. Camped up in the Wounded Coast in a makeshift 'hospital' because they didn't have a healer. Isabela, Merrill and even Varric wrapping bandages on the two warriors of the group - Aveline and Fenris as well as the severely battered Gareth. Who was to say archery was all that safe when their illustrious leader had been wounded so badly? It was amazing that they'd managed to keep him alive (albeit bleeding profusely) to get to the secret cave.

Gareth turned slightly when he felt the magic seep into his pores. He looked up to see a weepy eyed Merrill trying desperately to heal. She hadn't ever managed to do one healing spell in the time he'd known her. The blue light kept on flickering on and off between her sobs. "If you see any lights ma vhenan - _please_ - stay away from them." She repeated over and over like a litany as she kept on attempting the spell again.

"Merrill?" He rasped. He looked deep into his eyes, searching. "I'm here." And with that she flung herself on him, whispering how she never wanted to see him so hurt ever gain in her whole life. "I'll never get this hurt again. My fighting days are well and truly over."

"Really?" She looked at him, green eyes boring into him.

"Really really. You think I can pull back a bowstring ever again after that statue crushed my arm?" He attempted the joke but it seemed to fall flat.

"Shit Hawke... if you so much as try to pull this on us again I'll make sure your fighting days are over." Varric quipped. "No more life threatening situations. Ever."

"I solemnly swear away from fighting." Hawke sighed dramatically. "Although a bit of a brawl can't go amiss can it?"

"He's awake - he's joking. Quick - knock him out." Isabela laughed.

"My jokes aren't _that_ bad." Gareth rolled his eyes and attempted to get up, only to collapse back down on his side. "Yeah - I'll be lucky to touch a bow again."

* * *

It took a month for everyone to heal from broken bones, burns and everything else the mages and templars had thrown at them but eventually they were up and able-bodied enough to fight back a little if needs be. Even if Hawke had problems drawing an arrow from his quiver or firing as accurately as before. Fenris had to use a bastard sword for the weight of his greatsword was too much and Aveline's shield arm was never going to be the same.

But they were all going their separate ways soon. Varric had been their eyes and ears in Kirkwall while holed up in the cavern and apparently there were Seekers out for them.

"I'm going to miss you my friend." Hawke awkwardly hugged Fenris. "Promise me to stay safe."

"Promise me you will keep an eye on the witc- Merrill." He didn't say it in so many words but he'd grown to accept that Hawke saw all mages as the same. Magic was magic, all types used for good or ill.

"I'll keep him safe." Isabela winked, leaning over the elven warrior and nibbling into his neck from behind. "Sweet thing can't go too far with the magical fisting trick."

"Didn't want to know 'Bela." Gareth sighed. "I hope you don't take him out to sea. He doesn't like fish."

"I'll train him to enjoy the salted meat then." Isabela shook her head. "Remember... hurt the kitten and your balls switch places with your eyes. I'll always be watching."

"That's because you want a good view of my arse." Gareth drawled. "Come on... it shouldn't be this awkward to say goodbye. What we need is some Antivan Brandy and a toast to seven years of kicking arse on a daily basis."

"You'll make me tear up Hawke." Isabela smiled. "Remember kitten - there are six things-"

"Stop trying to corrupt Merrill Isabela." Hawke put a protective arm around her. "The six things are-"

"You're just as bad!" Isabela batted him on the bad shoulder, causing the fellow rogue to wince. "I'm going to miss pissing about with you."

"You'll cope. You'll find some bawdy wenches in some Maker-awful tavern somewhere who'll replace me." He shrugged. In truth - he was going to miss getting drunk with his pirate friend.

"Hawke - I couldn't cover for you completely - finish up the sobbing and move!" Varric burst into the cave. The two couples quickly said their goodbyes before both heading in different directions out of the cave.

"I wonder how Aveline is coping." Varric muttered to himself.

"I'm fine dwarf - getting pampered by my husband and refused to be allowed on patrols while Kirkwall is in flames. Enjoyment of the highest degree."

"Shit Aveline. You still scare me."


	11. Fading - for Bathorybabe

Author note: Have to do this... Now! For the incredibly talented **Bathorybabe** who writes dark and deliciously. Check out 'I've killed one man...' and 'Heavy hearts...' by her for some Tabris, Alistair and Cousland fantasticalness that means you might have a whole seat - but you'll only need the edge.

"Okay I got one...Alistair, Fenris, Hawke (either gender) and Merrill.  
Setting: the fade. Must contain the following: a kiss, a slap, the color blue,  
an hour glass, a brief cameo by Flemeth, and a banana.

Do with it what you will, I have the utmost confidence in your kick ass  
abilities :-)"

So that's the prompt. Here I go! I might just have a very interesting story here with the idea that popped into my head. Set Post-DA2? Phoenix Hawke is being dusted off for this one - because I have many Hawkes and Wardens that sometimes have crossing canons and some that don't. Phoenix fits in this one nicely. (Incidentally - all the characters I use in prompts are prompt only unless I _really really _get enough reviews saying to do their whole story).

* * *

The Chantry explosion didn't just obliterate the stonework at the heart of Kirkwall. It destroyed the barriers between the waking world and the Fade. Now they wandered aimlessly about the ever changing landscape.

Phoenix Hawke sighed. She hated the Fade, being a mage didn't make the place any more inviting, if anything the demons attempted to latch onto her and her lover Merrill more so than usual. "Ma vhenan... what has Anders done?"

In truth - she didn't know. The feeling of slipping into a deep sleep had been clawing at her ever since the explosion, culminating in the end of the fight with Meredith. She'd killed the mage, an efficient stab in the back through his spine and upwards into his heart to stop his twisted version of Justice. But it would never be enough. Anders was seeking more than destruction of physical matters, he sought to entrap people into his web. Even in death he haunted them. Bastard.

"Get away from me - sprite thingy." Was that the drunk from the Hanged Man? Fenris was glowering at him, his hands balling into fists and the glow of his lyrium branding getting ominously brighter.

"I suggest you back away." Hawke put herself between the two men. "If you haven't noticed - we've been trapped in the Fade. Fenris - can I rely on your sword if there are demons in our path out?"

"Always Hawke." He nodded to her. How the mage had turned against her own kind mere hours ago had changed everything he'd thought she'd stood for. Their unspoken rivalry vanished in stopping what had happened before it could lead to all out war. He'd admired that she could stand with those who called her a sinner for her birth, admired the strength in the mage where he didn't see any in himself until Danarius was rotting alongside his traitorous sister. But now they were trapped together in the Maker-forsaken Fade.

"What're you doing here?" The drunk stared at the two mages and the thing... he could feel their presence. Even as pissed as he was he could feel the dark magic emanating from the elven mage, the whisper of spirit healing from the dark-haired woman and the thrum of lyrium on the sprite. He'd never encountered a sprite before.

"Trying to escape." Hawke remarked. "I assume you'd also like to get back to your beer induced stupor rather than this taxing place?"

"Damn right." He blinked. "You're a mage aren't you?"

"The inebriated one can see your staff." Fenris drawled.

"I'm a Templar! I'm a Grey Warden! I'm a Prince!" He glared. "Til that bitch decided otherwise. When she made that bastard Loghain a Warden."

"Oh joy. We're rid of one Grey Warden to stumble into another. This time the opposite side of the mage-templar spectrum." Hawke rolled her eyes. "I don't have time for this. Just follow us and don't smite the living daylights out of me or Merrill and you'll get out of this place."

"Fine!" He harrumphed. "Don't like mages anyway and the Fade. Got trapped before with the Amell bitch." Hawke stared at him. Did everyone know her famous cousin? This wasn't the time to ask questions though. "Name's Alistair."

"Well follow us Alistair. We're going to get out of here." Hawke wasn't so sure of how... but she'd figure this out. The trick of the Fade was finding out why things happened.

"How will we get out of here Hawke?" Merrill muttered. "I can't stand being in the Fade."

"I don't know."

* * *

The group of four trudged weary on the only open path the Fade allowed until they fell into something blue and wet. Water obviously. But seriously? Argh. Hawke was not happy. Getting wet on top of beaten half to death by a crazed Knight-Commander and a mad First-Enchanter was not on the top of her wish list.

"Maker's teeth this is cold." Alistair was half floating in the luminescent water. That was something odd about the Fade. Demons attempted to keep mortals enthralled here yet made the place so disarmingly dissimilar to the real world that one couldn't stand it for long.

"It's water - ice water. Of course it is you dolt." Hawke drew on her Galvanism training and made a small island in the water, coughing up solid globs of the water as she dragged herself the makeshift island. Merrill swam easily onto it, her lithe form slicked in her white mages armour. "Are you alright my love?" Hawke pulled the elf up and clasped her hands to the chilled cheeks of the Dalish.

Merrill bit a little into her lip. "I-I'm f-f-fine. Just chilly." Her teeth chattered and Hawke felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she leaned forward.

"Allow me to warm you then." She smirked tartly, brushing her lips to the elf's, deepening the embrace as Merrill's hands curled into her sodden choppy hair. Merrill pressed closer to her, their wet robes sticking together as the heat from their bodies met.

"Argh." Alistair hauled himself onto the rocky shore. "Amell and _Loghain_ couldn't make me want to gag that much. I heard she took him to her... tent." He growled in disgust.

"You're here on your own volition." Fenris choked as he knelt on his hands and knees on the rock. "Don't make me want to kill you."

Hawke broke the kiss. "If you're planning on being disagreeable I'll just leave you here while myself, Fenris and Merrill escape the Fade."

"I'll be good!" Alistair shook his head. "Don't put yourself out."

"I shan't." Hawke clenched her jaw tight. "But I don't like leaving pathetic drunks alone. Ask my uncle."

"Hawke! That was unfair!" Merrill pursed her lips. "Gamlen must have a nice side... deep down. Really far down... under the sourness and scowling."

"Do you feel that?" Hawke was alert and she stood shakily on the rocky island platform. "It's like the Fade is changing again. Brace yourself everyone."

* * *

The island had shot up into the air until it landed heavily into yellow mush, throwing it's four passengers into it. Fenris scraped up a palm-full of the mush and brought it up to his nose, sniffing it as if it was poison.

"Banana?" Merrill crinkled her nose and snorted out a torrent of the yellow mush. "Why is there banana?"

"Who was thinking of fruits?" Hawke groaned. Not only were they wet now. But they were covered in expensive Antivan fruit mush. From a giant banana they'd landed on. If today could get any weirder they might find gold up their arses. That would have helped when it came to Varric's expedition those six years ago when she was scrimping and saving every copper bit.

The banana mush started to heat up and the four groaning ex-passengers of the island hot-footed out of it, still covered in the slimy sheen of the fruit as well as soaked through to skin with the Fade water.

"Why can't I go one day without having something perplexing happening to me?" Fenris groaned as he landed heavily on the dirty Fade floor - panting from having run the great distance required to be out of the burning banana.

"Because you're with me? Didn't Varric say something like 'the day you decide on a day off at the beach will be the day undead pirates storm Kirkwall'?" Hawke licked a bit of the sweet mush off her lips.

"Does the ground feel like it's moving?" Alistair was standing with his legs splayed out and his arms outstretched with palms facing downwards while intently staring at the floor.

"Don't say things like that - weird shit happens when people notice." Hawke grumbled. But it was true... the ground felt very unstable. Then they started slipping into the ground, up to their knees as the dirty Fade floor became like sand.

"Don't struggle. There's a thing called quicksand - it could take a whole aravel if we struggled." Merrill was most probably the most calm in the group. Until that is - vine latched around her legs and started dragging her down.

"Merrill!" Hawke tried to wade through the sandy-ish floor but ended up waist deep in her efforts.

* * *

So they found themselves dragged _through_ the floor into a glassy bell shape, sand pouring over them. Just what in the Void would happen next? Argh. Hawke was getting tired now. Wet, sticky with banana and now covered in fine sand. Could anything else gunk all over her?

"Where are we now? Do crazy situations just attach to you?" Alistair groaned, kneeling in the sand.

"Most of the time." Hawke replied as lightly as possible. "Fenris - do you think you could break this glass?"

The Tevinter elf sauntered up the the thick glass and drew out his greatsword and thwacked at it futilely before sheathing it and activating his lyrium brands and ghosting through it - shattering the glass over them, sand spewing forth as the three others ran out from it all.

"I really think crazy shit happens to you all the time." Alistair groaned. Hawke had had it up to here with the drunk and self proclaimed prince. First he had been utterly disrespectful about her and Merrill, had the gall to anger Fenris before they'd found the elf and him squaring off and he just kept on complaining. Oh - and the comment about her cousin being a bitch... didn't sit straight with her. You don't speak ill of family. Even prig brothers like she had in the Templars.

"It might!" She rounded up on the drunk and stared defiantly at him. "But I cope - I always cope if you didn't notice! Now quit complaining or you'll regret it!"

"Yeah yeah... 'stop whining Alistair' - 'I don't want to listen to your fears' - 'the dog is more intelligent than you templar!'... you sound like the two bitchiest mages I knew."

"That's it!" Hawke swung the back of her hand at him, catching him on the jaw with her spiky Champion gauntlets. "I am the Champion of Kirkwall. I don't take shit from you or anyone. You can gripe and moan until a certain point... Argh... I'm done with this shit." She turned her back on him and drew Merrill closer. The Dalish elf had seen her angry, had seen her smile and joke, had seen her at her lowest ebbs of sadness and self-destruction. But never had she seen Hawke so infuriated with someone. Even Carver wasn't as harshly viewed as this templar. But Hawke trusted her brother had joined the templars to make Kirkwall better. Hawke always sided with family even if her own beliefs wavered.

"My my, it seems you are all very angry over being thrust together in this predicament." Hawke snorted a long breath as she turned to the vaguely familiar voice. "What seems to be the problem mighty Champion?"

"Asha'bellanar!" Merrill bowed to the ancient witch. "W-what are you doing here?"

"The one of the People from before. Stand - you bow knee much too quickly for my tastes."

"Merrill is asking you a questing witch." Hawke ground her teeth together. Yes - this insanity matched some of the tales her mother had whispered at night to them.

"Flemeth?" Alistair blinked. "Great - another mage that hates me too. I'm sure we killed you."

"The probable prince. So wonderful to meet you again. A shame on your fortunes." Flemeth smirked. "You could have put your grievances aside and still been King."

"Shut your mouth." Alistair growled.

"So what are you doing here?" Hawke decided diplomacy might be the best solution now. "We need to get out of the Fade."

"Then it so happens that I have a way out." Flemeth turned to the Champion. "Another small task. But I wish for you to travel to Orlais and to free a circle mage by the name of Amell."

"Free Amell?" Alistair rubbed his eyes. "I don't to the bidding of that bitch."

"What's my cousin doing in Orlais?" Hawke asked.

"She followed the one she loved when he was taken by the Orlesian Wardens." Flemeth shrugged. "I believe her phylactery was used to capture her. But Thedas needs the two heroes to fight again. You and your cousin are needed."

"Get us out of the Fade and I'll do as you ask." Hawke took in a deep breath. "And get the gunk off our clothes. I hate gunk all over me."


	12. Satinalia - for WitchcraftAndTrickery

Author note: Oh yes! The utterly amazing **WitchcraftAndTrickery **has sent me a prompt. Check out her series of shorts based upon Disney songs. 'Thedas does Disney' is crazy good and you really need to read it!

Anyway the prompt was... "how about M!Warden trying to teach Morrigan about Satinalia, when she's plainly uninterested?"

So here's my attempt at this! A super short short. (Sorry it too long hun!)

* * *

Julian Amell couldn't fathom this. How could Morrigan never have celebrated Satinalia? Even in Kinloch Hold they let the mages celebrate. Albeit - without the customary feasting of about every single meat known to man and the odious drinking (which were substituted for the traditional Feastday fish dish and a few glasses of something red and alcoholic. Proper treat all things considered).

"Morrigan - it's Ferelden tradition!"

"I have no care for it. Why one would give oneself over to ritualistic gluttony for a full day when a Blight is on nevertheless, it ridiculous!"

"We're snowed into Eamon's estate - what else do you plan on doing?" He smirked. The witch had tried to seduce him a few times now but he was immune to her charms. A certain Orlesian bard had stolen his heart the moment he saw her standing up to Loghain's men. Not that he was attracted to her in the first place - rude woman.

"I will be in my room. Ignoring the bawdy humour and raucous noises whatever you all seem to find enjoyable."

"Just stay a little while Morrigan. Maybe you could write an epic novelization on the gluttony and materialistic greed found in human society and make fortunes?" Morrigan turned her nose up at him. "Eat something we didn't have to catch beforehand?"

"If I ever tired of the satisfaction found in self-reliance I would hand myself like a trussed chicken over to the templars and start reading the Chant of Light."

"Good morning dear heart!" Leliana snuck up on her mage and threw her arms around him, tapping his chest with a small gift in between her fingers. "Happy Satinalia!"

"And a good morning to you cher coeur." He kissed her lightly on the cheek presented over his shoulder. "And what is this - a present for me?"

"Open it!" Leliana smiled, slipping around Julian and waiting with hands clasped together for his reaction. Julian toyingly playing with the red ribbon on the parcel.

"Oh - now this is lovely." He drew the bard into a deep kiss and Morrigan made almost retching noises in the background. Julian rolled his eyes as he broke the embrace and pinned the sliver clasp with a nightingale engraved on it to his chest. "Satinalia is about showing others you love them, and the returned affections."

"As well as contemplating the year you've had." Leliana added.

"Oh - so it is a Chantry doctrine!" Morrigan gasped in mock understanding. "Now I simply must come along and indulge myself!"

"Be like that Morrigan - but you'll be missing out." Leliana pouted.

"Now now ladies - play nicely." Julian bit the inside of his lip. "I'm going to see how the resident assassin and dwarf have been. I suspect raiding Eamon's liquor cabinet."

Leliana followed Julian out of the room and Morrigan shook her head. There was no need for stupid traditions and ritual. What was needful was power and lasting respect. But to see happiness so close... it made her wonder how life could have been if she were a different woman.

Pah... such idle thoughts for the daughter of Flemeth.


	13. Meeting a Prince - for Legionary Prime

Author note: So this is quite a unique prompt... I like it when I get given ones that are unusual, makes me try just that little bit harder to write something plausible.

Anyway, this is from **Legionary Prime**:

" It involves an early meeting of Female Tabris and Cailan so yes, this is a Cailan/FemTabris romance.

What happens next is up to you.

However, it would be good to have it start at Ostagar where Cailan has a flashback or something. "

Here it goes - sorry it's so sad! :D (Sorry it took so long... I got caught up writing so many things! - Mainly A Joint Journey - my baby fic that's going to end up some hundreds of thousands of words long)

* * *

Cailan stared out over the aging fortress of Ostagar. It was utterly glorious, the battle waged here, the whole place mired in the blood and sweat of legends alongside ordinary men. That this would be where he and the Grey Wardens would make their stand against the evil that was the darkspawn was no mere coincidence. No - it couldn't be.

"Your majesty!" One of his knights assigned bodyguard by Teryn Loghain addressed him, bring him out of the sweet reverie of storybook battle. "Duncan and his recruit have been sighted five minutes away by a scout."

"Well let's give them a proper welcome shall we? A hot meal and some rest after a trek would be a good idea but who could say no to meeting their King?" Calian grinned, heading toward the stone bridgeway with his guards in flank. He could vaguely see the familiar silverite armor of the Warden commander and a leather clad form walking begrudgingly at his side. In opposite positions he'd be proud to stand as a recruit to the Grey Wardens. We'll see about that!

As he neared he couldn't help but think he recognized the feminie figure.

Then he was almost fifteen feet away when recognition dawned on him properly. He knew the woman in leathers. Anna Tabris. A woman, elf that had haunted his waking moments for most of his marriage.

* * *

_Calian strode into The Pearl, having successfully sneaked out of yet another boring meeting with Arls and Banns too numerous to name. He left such tedious matters to Anora, trusting her political mind trained into her by her father. They may have been married but to say they were happy was to be ridiculous.  
_

_"Good eventide my liege." Sanga smiled from the bar, lifting the top of it and sauntering over with hand on hip, thrusting out her chest as required by the madame of a brothel. "Another night to wind away the troubles of the day?"_

_"If you'd please." Calian shrugged off his cloak. He always got recognized by Sanga and the other ladies that worked here. It would be ridiculous to keep the covering over him in the heated establishment. "My usual mead and if I could peruse the women available at the moment?"_

_"Of course." Sanga nodded over to the barman, one of the whores too aged to continue working but still a helpful hand. Ulfric was a dab hand with the fruit cocktails often ordered by the sailors traveled from hot lands such as Antiva and Rivain. "Ulfric - gather the girls free for his majesty I'd be most grateful." Ulfric rolled his eyes before hopping to task and leaving Sanga to get the pint of mead for his majesty._

_Calian sat at the high plush barstool and gratefully swallowed a mouthful of the sweet lightly spiced mead that The Pearl boasted at stocking all year round. He placed his five sovereigns for the drink, girl and secrecy he demanded into Sanga's waiting hand. Ulfric sauntered back it, pausing a moment to pick up the spent pint glasses from an empty table before lining the girls up in height order by the doors to the back rooms. "All yours. I trust payment has been done."_

_"All paid up. Now get back here and wash up those glasses." Sanga motioned for him to get behind the bar and Calian took a moment in regarding the examples of beauty placed before him. The tallest was quite beautiful he supposed, pale and slim - but her ice blonde hair and poise instantly put him off, reminding him awfully of the Queen he was leaving behind. The second tallest he disregarded immediately for her hips were too wide and when she smiled his way he noticed a missing tooth. He ought to tell Sanga not to have her smile so widely to clientele._

_But the third in line drew his attention utterly. Tall but not overbearing with a chest you could compare to succulent fruit and a clinched in waist from either extensive exercise or a harsh corseting regime. Then he glanced up her body to a face that would inspire artists for generations, a straight nose and thick eyelashes framing deep azure eyes and thick luscious brunette curls that tumbled rebelliously down her head and sweeping to touch her shoulders. Yes - he'd decided._

_"The girl in the center." He tipped the mead forward to his mouth, draining it away and putting the heavy bottomed glass back to the bar._

_"Anna - please escort his majesty into the second room." Sanga motioned for the woman, Anna, to step forward and dismissed the others back to milling about the rest of their patrons. Calian stood and took her proffered arm, passing through the bouncers that lead to the back bedrooms._

_He was put off a bit by the way the woman was trembling on his arm ever so slightly but he attributed it to who he was. It wouldn't be the first time one of the girls had been in awe of his mere presence - let alone the act itself. He was always thanked for an enjoyable evening with one of them._

_"So here we are." Anna brushed the hair off her face and behind a long pointed ear. Oh - he hadn't realized she was elven. That didn't put him off her but from her height and voluptuous shape he'd hardly assumed so. Perhaps she was shorter than usual for a human woman but he never though she was elven. "If you'd head into the room?" _

_Calian did as she obliged and sat on the luxurious bed. Anna followed in after and grabbed a decanter of brandy, pouring out two glasses. One for herself and one for him. "So... have you worked here long?" He asked to break some of the tension after he knocked back the smooth brandy._

_"A week." She muttered, knocking back her inch of brandy. "It's not the worst job in the world."_

_"I see. I promise not to disappoint then my lady." Calian passed her back the tumbler._

_"Do you prefer on top or..." Anna glanced over to the brandy but shook her head and pulled her hair back again._

_"Are you alright?" Calian stood up and drew the woman into an embrace. Anna stared up at the tall man, pursing her lips. "If you don't want to I'll not force you."_

_"I'll be fine. Just new." She took a deep breath and patted his shoulder, removing her person from him. "If you'd take your clothes off?"_

_"You're obviously not alright. What are you doing here?" Anna felt her ire spike._

_"What wouldn't I do here? I'm feeding my family the only way us elves can - whoring myself out to those with enough money! No one thinks we have any worth other than lying on our backs!" She clasped a hand over mouth and blushed deeply. She hadn't meant to say that. No - she wasn't supposed to speak out. Sanga would fire her and she'd be in the same predicament as she was before, starved for food and needing to support her father and cousins. Calian was taken aback for a moment - the show of strength belying the previous actions._

_"I'm so sorry!" Anna moved to the brandy again and poured a generous three inches into one of the glasses. "Here - just please don't tell Sanga - I need this job."_

_"Anna wasn't it?" Calian fumbled with the coin in his pocket. "Please... take this." He held out the three silver in his hand. Why didn't he bring more coin - oh yes - he was sneaking. "Get yourself out of here."_

_Anna glared suspiciously at the coin offered. "Free of any favors?"_

_"Completely." Calian promised. "But don't come back."_

_Anna grabbed the three silver and casually placed it in her pocket before walking quickly to the door. "If Sanga asks - you had fun."_

_"I did." Calian nodded before she was gone. He'd not thought of seeing her again._

* * *

_It was a month after that strange meeting that Calian saw the woman again, in the marketplace being cornered by two guardsmen with a canvas bag slung over her shoulder.  
_

_"Miss - it's a routine search. Hold out your bag." The first guard moved his hand to his pommel and Calian moved closer, recognizing the elf._

_"I've got nothing! Just vegetables and some medicine from the apothecary!" She pleaded. "My father is ill!"_

_"Likely story knife-ear. Where'd you get the money? Snatching purses in your off time?" The second guard chuckled. Huh? Calian put a hand on the guard's shoulder._

_"What seems to be the problem here Sers?" Calian smiled._

_"Ah! Your majesty - just doing a routine search of this woman before she goes into the Alienage." The second guard stared wide-eyed at him._

_"I'm sure the young lady is just buying some necessary items... if you would allow me to look in your bag milady?" Calian put a hand out and she passed it over, looking at the bottom of it as if she was waiting for something bad to happen. Calian furrowed his brow but opened the bag... cabbage, carrots, a bottle of black viscous liquid marked 'cough mixture' and a dagger in a sheath decidedly for a thigh garter. "Nothing untoward - if you'd leave the lady alone?" The guards sighed and moved along before Calian passed the bag back over._

_"You didn't rat me out?" She looked at him from under her eyelashes. "Why?"_

_"Why not? Are you still working at The Pearl?" Calian took in a deep breath._

_"I got mugged... I had to." She glanced downwards. Calian put his hand in his pocket - why didn't he have coin on him enough to help this woman... just two silver and a bronze bit. "Oh! You don't have to give me anything!"_

_"I insist." Calian put the coins into her bag. "Don't get mugged this time."_

_"I'll try not to." Anna smiled and winked at him. "I've never met such a nice human."  
_

_"I try to be agreeable." He winked back. Something about her set him aflame. Gah - he really wished he hadn't been so selfless and had her in The Pearl. But then he'd never had the chance to see her smile and wink._

* * *

_Their next meeting had been only a week after that. He was back at The Pearl and as soon as he'd seen her in the line-up he'd asked to go with her.  
_

_"Anna!" He breathed._

_"You... remembered my name?" She stared wide-eyed at him._

_"Of course - your beautiful and well-spoken and..." Anna halted his talk with a finger on his lips._

_"I'm an elf and you're the King." She sighed. "And don't look at me like that - I'm not some charity case."_

_"But..."_

_"No. Now let's get on with the job I've been paid for shall we?"_

_And Maker help him - he did._

* * *

_"So... enjoyable?" Anna moved to get dressed again.  
_

_"Very... but you shouldn't be working here."_

_"Says the man who visits often enough that the other whores know your favourite positions." Anna snorted. "I'm sorry... I'll leave in a moment."_

_"Take all the coin in my britches... but don't stay here. I won't see you again... but I might find that difficult."_

_"No promises my King."_

* * *

_As fate would have it - he would see her two days later. He half dragged her to the second bedroom in the back.  
_

_"You shouldn't be working here. You're better than this!" Calian ranted._

_"Tell that to every other human." Anna muttered._

_"I brought two sovereigns extra in case I saw you again." Calian took a deep breath and opened his mouth to have Anna lean upwards and capture his mouth with hers._

_"I need money like no tomorrow... but I won't take it. I wanted to see you again you crazy human. You're just so... I can't stop."_

_"I promise you'll be free of this slavery. I'll do all in my power to make sure of it."_

_"Promise all you like - it'll never happen... now let's do what you paid for."_

* * *

_And so they continued for two more years. She never took more than a silver 'tip' but Calian hated seeing her there every time he went to the establishment. But Maker he... he loved her. He really did.  
_

_"Same as usual my liege?" Sanga greeted him as he pulled off his cloak in the porch of the brothel._

_"The same." Calian closed his eyes. He could almost feel the warring want of helping Anna out of the awful predicament she was in and the want of feeling her pressed up against him._

_"Anna isn't in. She... had a personal problem." _

* * *

_It was another half a year before he saw her again and Anna seemed more subdued. He wanted to ask her why but he couldn't get the words out before he had to taste her lips, feel her tongue battling for dominance with his. He was head over heels for this woman.  
_

* * *

And now he was faced with her again, almost four and a half years from first seeing her in The Pearl.

"I see you've a fine recruit Duncan." Calian glanced over at her, the bone-deep need to hold her in his arms fighting his duty to act as King.

"Good day my King." Anna paused a moment. She couldn't tell him. Not now.

But fate got in the way and Calian never learned of the daughter he had growing up in the Tabris household, fate had made it so she inherited the elven ears of her mother and not the human appearance of her father. If she'd looked human she might have been able to be taken in by the human orphanage.

It was a shame that she lost her father without ever knowing him when she was only two and could barely remember her mother singing to her at night and crying for some reason.

A bigger shame her mother was taken to be a Grey Warden. But Adaia Tabris would be tough, she'd grow up to be like her mother - Warden Commander Tabris. She'd learn of her father with time - but not of how she came to be. No child wanted to know they were borne of an affair that meant she'd never be accepted for who she was.


End file.
